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THE   STEALING  OF   THE   TREASURE. 


TOM  PAULDING 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2012  with  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hil 


http://archive.org/details/tompauldingstorymatt 


TOM  PAULDING 


THE   STORY  OF  A   SEARCH  FOR  BURIED  TREASURE 
IN  THE  STREETS  OF   NEW  YORK 


BY 

BRANDER  MATTHEWS 


FIFTH 
THOUSAND 


NEW  YORK 

THE  CENTURY  CO. 

1892 


Copyright,  1891, 1892,  by 
The  Century  Co. 


The  OeVinne  Press. 


This  story  of  a  young  American  is  inscribed  to 

Thomas  Wentworth  Hjgginson, 
who  has  deserved  well  of  all  americans,  white 
and  black,  women  and  men,  young  folks  and  old. 


CONTENTS 

Page 

I  The  Scene  op  the  Story  1 

II  Around  the  Bonfire  10 

III  A  Walk  by  the  River  21 

IV  Pauline  and  the  Careful  Katie  30 

V  At  the  Breakfast-Table  40 

VI  The  Box  of  Papers  51 

VII  Cakes  and  a  Composition  68 

VIII  A  Quarrel  and  an  Arrival  77 

IX  Uncle  Dick  87 

X  A  Lesson  in  Geography  105 

XI  Santa  Claus  brings  a  Suggestion  112 

XII  The  Fate  of  Jeffrey  Kerr  130 

XIII  Christmas  Morning  and  Christmas  Night  138 

XIV  The  Battle  of  the  Curls  150 

XV  A  New-Year's-Day  Departure  162 


Page 

XVI  Tom  has  Patience  171 

XVII  Enlisting  Allies  181 

XVIII  Making  Ready  192 

XIX  Jeffrey  Kerr's  Booty  204 

XX  The  "  Working  Hypothesis  "  214 

XXI  A  Startling  Discovery  226 

XXII  Counsel  237 

XXIII  Conclusion  245 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Page 

The  Stealing  of  the  Treasure  Frontispiece 

Sketch  in  Upper  New  York  4 

Typical  Sketches  op  Upper  New  York  5 

"Tom  was  Tied  to  a  Stake,  with  his  Hands  behind 

Him"  19 

"  Tom  had  made  Her  a  Seat  on  one  Side  of  this  Tree  "    35 

"'I'm  Going  to  See  if  we  can't  Get  back  Some  of  that 

Stolen  MopiY,'  said. Tom"  49 

"Tom  had  to  Puzzle  Out  and  Piece  Together,  but  at 
last  he  got  at  all  the  facts  so  far  as  it  was 
Possible  to  Discover  Them"  57 

" '  Guess  what  I  've  found  ! '  she  cried  "       .  72 

"Tom  was  Able  to  find  Most  of  the  Positions  Indi- 
cated on  the  Map"  83 

Pauline  and  Uncle  Dick  Inspecting  the  "Cat-ranch"     89 

Uncle  Dick  Tells  Tom  and  Polly  his  Adventures  97 

Uncle  Dick  Tells  Polly  about  the  Diamond-fields       109 


Page 
Mr.  Joshua  Hoffmann  has  a  Talk  with  Uncle  Dick       115 

"Corkscrew" -Tells  Uncle  Dick  and  Tom  of  the  Dis- 
covery by  the  Aqueduct  Laborers  123 

'"I  Think  I  Know  where  the  Thief  is,'  the  Boy  began"  131 

Uncle  Dick  and  Tom  go  to  the  Fire  146 

"Involuntarily  Tom  Raised  his  Hand  to  his  Head,  and 

he  felt  the  Little  Twists  of  Paper"  159 

"Tom  would  Pretend  to  Sound  Rocks  with  a  Stick"  175 

"Tom    said    Solemnly,    'Fellows,    can    you    Keep    a 

Secret?'"  186 

"Thus  the  Procession  Set  Out"  201 

"In  a  Second  he  was  Soaked  Through"  212 

"  Tom  Paulding  Stooped  and  Picked  Out  a  Dozen  Yel- 
low Coins"  215 

"Taking  up  the  Stopper,  he  Touched  a  Drop  of  the 

Liquid  to  the  Marks"  235 

"Tom  Told  her  the  Whole  Story"  243 

Mrs.  Paulding  Receives  her  Christmas  Present  251 


TOM    PAULDING. 


CHAPTER   I. 


THE   SCENE   OF   THE   STORY. 


N  every  great  city  there  are  unexplored 
fastnesses  as  little  known  to  the  world 
at  large  as  is  the  heart  of  the  Dark  Con- 
tinent. Now  and  again  it  happens  that 
a  sudden  turn  in  the  tide  of  business  or 
of  fashion  brings  into  view  these  hither- 
to unexplored  regions.  Then  there  begins  at  once  a  strug- 
gle between  the  old  and  the  new,  between  the  conditions 
which  obtained  when  that  part  of  the  city  was  ignored,  and 
those  which  prevail  now  that  it  has  been  brought  to  the 
knowledge  of  men.  The  struggle  is  sharp,  for  a  while ;  but 
the  end  is  inevitable.  The  old  cannot  withstand  the  new; 
and  in  a  brief  space  of  time  the  unknown  region  wakes  up, 
and  there  is  a  fresh  life  in  all  its  streets ;  there  is  a  tearing 
down,  and  there  is  a  building  up  ;  and  in  a  few  months  the 
place  ceases  to  be  old,  although  it  has  not  yet  become  new. 


2  TOM   PAULDING. 

During  this  state  of  transition  there  are  many  curious 
changes;  and  a  pair  of  sharp  eyes  can  see  many  curious 
things. 

In  this  Manhattan  Island  of  ours,  there  is  more  than  one 
undiscovered  country  of  this  kind ;  and  in  a  city  as  active  and 
as  restless  as  New  York  it  is  only  a  question  of  time  how  soon 
such  a  quarter  shall  be  discovered,  and  rescued  from  neglect. 
Though  a  place  may  have  been  abandoned  for  a  century, 
sooner  or  later  some  one  will  find  it  out  again.  Though  it 
may  have  been  left  on  one  side  during  the  forced  march  of 
improvement,  sooner  or  later  some  one  will  see  its  advan- 
tages, and  will  make  them  plain. 

At  the  time  of  this  story,  when  om*  hero,  young  Tom 
Paulding,  set  forth  upon  his  quest  for  buried  treasure,  in  the 
ninth  decade  of  the  nineteenth  century,  the  quarter  of  New 
York  where  he  lived,  and  where  he  sought  what  had  been 
lost  more  than  a  hundred  years  before,  was  passing  through 
a  period  of  transition.  This  part  of  New  York  lies  above 
Central  Park,  behind  Morningside  Park  and  beside  the  Hud- 
son River,  where  the  Riverside  Drive  stretches  itself  out  for 
two  miles  and  more  along  the  brow  of  the  wooded  hill. 

This  portion  of  the  city  has  much  natural  beauty  and  not 
a  little  historic  interest.  Just  beyond  the  rocky  terrace  of 
Morningside  Park  was  fought  the  battle  of  Harlem  Plains  on 
September  16,  1776.  Then  it  was  that  the  British  troops, 
having  occupied  the  lower  part  of  the  island,  assaulted  the 
Continental  forces,  and  were  beaten  back.  For  days  there- 
after, General  Washington  had  his  headquarters  within  a 


THE   SCENE   OF    THE    STORY.  3 

mile  or  two  of  the  spot  where  General  Grant  now  lies 
buried. 

In  the  fourscore  years  which  elapsed  between  the  retire- 
ment of  Washington  from  the  presidency  of  these  United 
States  and  the  election  of  Grant  to  that  exalted  position,  the 
part  of  Manhattan  Island  where  Tom  Paulding  lived,  and 
where  his  father,  and  his  grandfather,  and  his  great-grand- 
father had  lived  before  him,  changed  very  little.  In  1876  it 
seemed  almost  as  remote  from  the  centers  of  trade  and  of 
fashion  as  it  had  been  in  1776.  Although  it  was  not  out  of 
town,  it  was  beyond  the  beaten  track  of  traffic.  Just  before 
the  Revolution,  and  immediately  after  it,  handsome  country- 
seats  had  been  built  here  and  there  on  the  heights  over- 
looking the  Hudson.  And  here  and  there,  on  the  rocky 
knobs  that  thrust  themselves  up  through  the  soil,  squatters 
had  since  set  up  their  little  wooden  shanties,  increasing  in 
number  as  the  edges  of  the  city  spread  out  nearer  and 
nearer. 

In  time  the  Riverside  Drive  was  laid  out  along  the  river ; 
and  then  the  transformation  began.  Day  by  day  there  were 
changes;  and  year  by  year  the  neighborhood  was  hardly 
recognizable. 

Here  had  been  one  of  the  few  spots  on  Manhattan  Island 
where  nature  was  allowed  to  run  wild  and  to  do  as  she 
thought  best,  unimpeded  by  man ;  and  by  great  good  fort- 
une the  advancing  tide  of  city  life  was  not  allowed  to  over- 
whelm altogether  the  natural  beauty  of  the  region.  The 
irregularities  of  the  surface  were  planed  over,  it  is  true; 


TOM   PAULDING. 


streets  were  cut  through  the  walls  of  rock  which  then  arose 
in  jagged  cliffs  high  above  the  sidewalks  on  both  sides,  and 
avenues  were  carried  across  sunken  meadows,  leaving  deep, 
wide  hollows  where  the  winter  snows  collected. 

Around  the  shanties  which  were  perched  upon  the  rocks, 
sheer  above  the  new  streets,  goats  browsed  on  the  scanty 

herbage ;  and  down  in  the 
hollows  which  lay  below  the 
level  of  the  same  thorough- 
fares, geese  swam  about 
placidly,  and  squawked 
when  a  passing  boy  was 
carelessly  cruel  enough  to 
throw  a  stone  at  the  peace- 
ful flock. 

It  is  a  region  of  contrasts 
as  it  is  a  time  of  transition. 
In  one  block  can  be  seen  the 
old  orchard  winch  girt  about 
one  of  the  handsome  coun- 
try-places built  here  early  .in 
the  century;  and  in  the  next  can  be  seen  the  frames  of  a 
market-gardener,  who  is  raising  lettuce  under  glass,  on 
ground  which  the  enterprising  builder  may  demand  any  day. 
The  patched  and  weather-stained  shanty  of  the  market-gar- 
dener may  be  within  the  shadow  of  a  new  marble  mansion 
with  its  plate-glass  conservatory.  An  old  wooden  house  with 
a  Grecian  portico  is  torn  down  to  make  room  for  a  tall  flat, 


SKETCH    IN    UPPER   NEW  YORK. 


TYF1CAL    SKETCHES    OF    UrrEK   NEW   YOKK. 


THE    SCENE   OF   THE   STORY.  7 

stretching  itself  seven  stories  high,  with  accommodation  for  a 
dozen  families  at  least.  The  builder  is  constantly  at  work. 
The  insignificant  whistle  of  his  engine  announces  the  morn- 
ing ;  and  the  dull  report  of  blasting  is  of  daily  frequency. 

With  its  many  possibilities,  this  is  perhaps  the  part  of  New 
York  where  a  boy  can  find  the  most  wholesome  fun.  He  is 
iu  the  city,  although  he  has  many  of  the  privileges  of  the 
country.  He  can  walk  under  trees  and  climb  hills ;  and  yet 
he  is  not  beyond  the  delights  of  the  town.  There  are  long 
slopes  down  which  he  may  coast  in  winter ;  and  there  are  as 
yet  many  vacant  lots  where  he  may  play  ball  in  summer. 
There  is  the  Morningside  Park  with  its  towering  battlements, 
just  the  place  for  a  sham  fight.  There  is  the  Riverside  Park 
with  its  broad  terrace  extending  nearly  three  miles  along  the 
river  front,  and  with  its  strip  of  woodland  sloping  steeply  to 
the  railroad  track  by  the  river. 

It  is  a  place  with  nearly  every  advantage  that  a  boy  can 
wish.  For  one  thing,  there  is  unceasing  variety.  If  he  takes 
a  walk  by  the  parapet  of  the  Riverside,  the  freight-trains  on 
the  railroad  below  rush  past  fiercely,  and  are  so  long  that  the 
engine  will  be  quite  out  of  sight  before  the  caboose  at  the 
end  comes  into  view.  From  the  brow  of  the  hill  the  moving 
panorama  of  the  Hudson  unrolls  itself  before  him ;  above 
are  the  Palisades  rising  sheer  from  the  water's  edge  and 
crowned  with  verdure;  opposite  is  Weehawken,  and  just 
below  are  the  Elysian  Fields,  now  sadly  shorn  of  their  green 
beauty.  No  two  views  of  the  river  are  ever  alike,  except 
possibly  in  winter  when  the  stream  may  freeze  over.     In  the 


8  TOM   PAULDING. 

summer  there  is  an  incessant  change ;  yachts  tack  across 
against  the  breeze ;  immense  tows  of  canal-boats  come  down 
drawn  by  one  broad  and  powerful  steamboat ;  and  pert  little 
tugs  puff  their  way  up  and  down,  here  and  there.  The  day- 
boats  go  up  every  morning  and  the  night-boats  follow  them 
every  evening.  Excursions  and  picnic  parties  go  by  in 
double-decked  barges,  lashed  together  side  by  side,  and  gay 
with  flags  and  music.  Sometimes  a  swift  steam-yacht  speeds 
up  stream  to  West  Point,  and  sometimes  a  sloop  loaded 
with  brick  from  Haverstraw  drifts  down  with  the  tide. 

On  land  there  is  a  change  almost  as  incessant.  Buildings 
are  going  up  everywhere ;  shanties  are  being  torn  down  ;  and 
streets  are  being  cut  through  here  and  filled  up  there,  and 
paved,  and  torn  up  again  to  lay  pipe,  and  repaired  again,  and 
torn  up  yet  once  more.  There  is  a  constant  effort  toward 
the  completion  of  the  Riverside  Park,  and  of  Morningside 
Park  but  a  few  blocks  beyond  it.  There  is  also  the  new 
aqueduct,  bringing  more  water  from  the  Croton  hills  to  the 
host  of  dwellers  in  the  city. 

When  Tom  Paulding  first  saw  the  men  at  work  on  this 
great  undertaking,  he  little  knew  how  necessary  that  water 
would  one  day  be  to  him  in  his  quest,  or  how  the  laborers 
who  were  laying  the  gigantic  pipes  in  deep  trenches  under- 
ground would  unwittingly  lend  him  their  aid. 

But  there  is  no  need  to  dally  longer  over  this  description 
of  the  place  where  the  young  New  Yorker  lived  who  is  to  be 
the  chief  character  of  the  story  set  forth  in  the  following 
pages.     It  is  time  now  to  introduce  Tom  Paulding  himself ; 


THE   SCENE   OF    THE   STORY.  9 

to  show  you  what  manner  of  boy  ho  was ;  to  make  you  ac- 
quainted with  his  friends  and  companions ;  to  explain  how 
it  happened  that  his  uncle  returned  home  in  time  to  advise  j 
and  to  tell  how  it  was  that  he  set  out  to  find  the  treasure. 
What  the  final  result  of  Ins  quest  was  will  be  fully  shown 
in  this  narrative;  but  whether  or  not  Tom  Paulding  was 
successful  in  his  endeavor,  every  reader  must  decide  for 
himself. 


CHAPTER  II. 


AROUND  THE   BONFIRE. 


N  one  of  the  side  streets  extending  east- 
ward from  the  Riverside  Park,  a  dozen 
boys  were  gathered  about  a  barrel,  which 
had  been  raised  on  four  stones.  It  was 
late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  Tuesday  fol- 
lowing the  first  Monday  in  November ;  and 
the  boys  were  about  to  exercise  the  im- 
memorial privilege  of  young  New  Yorkers  on  election  night. 
Between  the  stones  which  supported  the  barrel  were  two  or 
three  crumpled  newspapers  and  a  heap  of  shavings.  Within 
the  wooden  chimney  of  the  barrel  itself  were  the  sides  of  a 
broken  box,  six  or  eight  short  boards,  and  such  other  com- 
bustible odds  and  ends  as  the  boys  had  been  able  to  get 
together  against  the  coming  of  the  fiery  holiday.  The  im- 
promptu altar  had  been  erected  almost  in  the  middle  of  the 
street ;  but  as  there  was  scarcely  a  house  within  a  block  on 
either  side,  and  as  few  carriages  or  carts  needed  to  come 
down  that  way,  there  was  little  danger  that  the  bonfire  of  the 
"  Black  Band  "  would  frighten  any  horses. 


AROUND   THE   BONFIRE.  11 

When  the  shavings  had  been  inspected,  and  he  had  made 
sure  that  the  flames  would  be  able  to  rise  readily  through 
the  improvised  flue,  the  boy  who  seemed  to  be  the  leader 
looked  around  and  said,  "  Who 's  got  a  match  1 " 

"  Here 's  a  whole  box !  "  cried  little  Jimmy  Wigger,  thrust- 
ing himself  through  the  ring  of  youngsters  ranged  about  the 
barrel.  He  was  the  smallest  boy  of  all,  and  he  was  greatly 
pleased  to  be  of  service. 

"  Are  you  going  to  set  it  off  now,  Cissy  ? "  a  tall  thin  lad 
asked. 

"  Well,  I  am  ! "  answered  the  boy  who  had  been  making 
ready  for  the  fire.  "  We  said  that  we  'd  start  -it  up  at  five 
o'clock,  did  n't  we  ? " 

The  speaker  was  a  solidly  built  young  fellow  of  about  four- 
teen, with  a  round,  good-naturecLface.  His  name  was  Mar- 
cus Cicero  Smith ;  his  father  always  called  him  "  Cicero,"  and 
among  his  playfellows  and  companions  he  was  known  as 
"  Cissy,"  for  short. 

A  timid  voice  suggested,  .-'What  's  your  hurry,  Cissy? 
Tom  Paulding  is  n't  here  yet." 

This  voice  belonged  to  Harry  Zachary,  a  slim  boy  of  scant 
thirteen,  shy  in  manner  and  hesitating  in  speech.  He  had 
light  golden  hair  and  light-blue  eyes. 

"  If  Tom  Paulding 's  late,"  replied  Cissy,  as  he  stooped  for- 
ward and  set  fire  to  the  paper  and  shavings,  "  so  much  the 
worse  for  Tom,  that 's  all.  He  knows  the  appointed  hour  as 
well  as  we  do." 

"  I  'd  just  like  to  know  what  is  keeping  Tom.     He  's  not 


12  TOM  PAULDING. 

often  late,"  said  the  tall  thin  lad  who  had  spoken  before,  and 
as  he  said  it  he  twisted  himself  about,  looking  over  his 
shoulders  with  a  strange  spiral  movement.  It  was  partly  on 
account  of  this  peculiar  habit  of  self -contortion  that  he  was 
generally  addressed  as  "Corkscrew."  But  that  nickname 
had  been  given  also  because  of  his  extraordinary  inquisitive- 
ness.  His  curiosity  was  unceasing  and  inordinate.  It  is  to 
be  recorded,  moreover,  that  he  had  straight  red  hah-,  and 
that  his  thin  legs  were  made  more  conspicuous  by  a  large 
pair  of  boots,  the  tops  of  which  rose  above  his  knees.  His 
real  name  was  George  William  Lott. 

As  the  wood  in  the  barrel  kindled  and  blazed  up,  the  boys 
heaped  on  more  fuel  from  a  pile  outside  their  circle.  While 
taking  a  broken  board  from  the  stack,  little  Jimmy  Wigger 
looked  up  and  saw  a  figure  approaching.  The  street  where 
they  were  assembled  had  been  cut  through  high  rocks  which 
towered  up  on  each  side,  irregular  and  jagged.  Twilight 
had  begun  to  settle  down  on  the  city,  and  in  the  hollow 
where  the  roadway  ran  between  the  broken  crags  there  was 
little  light  but  that  of  the  bonfire.  It  was  difficult  to  make 
out  a  stranger  until  he  was  close  upon  them. 

"  Some  one  is  coming !  "  cried  little  Jimmy,  glad  that  he 
had  again  been  able  to  be  useful. 

The  approaching  figure  stood  still  at  once. 

The  group  about  the  fire  spread  open,  and  Cissy  careened 
forward  a  few  feet.  He  had  always  a  strange  swing  in  his 
walk,  not  unlike  the  rolling  gait  of  a  sailor. 

When  he  had  swung  ahead  four  or  five  paces  he  paused, 


AROUND   THE  BONFIRE.  13 

and  raising  his  fingers  to  his  lips,  he  gave  a  shrill  whistle 
with  a  peculiar  cadence  : 


Igp^^i^ 


The  stranger  also  stood  still,  and  made  the  expected  answer 
with  a  flourish  of  its  own : 

E 


^^=Z==L±j^ 


m 


11  It 's  Tom  Paulding,"  said  Harry  Zachary. 

"  I  wonder  what  has  made  him  so  late/"'  Corkscrew  re- 
marked. 

Cissy  Smith  took  another-  step  forward,  and  cried,  "Who 
goes  there  ? " 

The  new-comer  also  advanced  a  step,  which  brought  him 
into  the  glare  of  the  blazing  barrel.  He  was  seen  to  be  a 
well-knit  boy  of  barely  fourteen,  with  dark-brown  eyes  and 
curly  black  hair. 

To  Cissy's  challenge  he  answered  in  a  clear  voice,  "A 
friend  of  the  Black  Band." 

"  Advance,  friend  of  the  Black  Band,  and  give  the  counter- 
sign and  grip." 

Each  of  the  two  boys  took  three  paces  forward,  and  stood 
face  to  face. 

The  new-comer  bent  forward  and  solemnly  whispered  in 
,(  Cissy's  ear  the  secret  password  of  ihe  Black  Band,  "  Captain 
Kidd." 


14  TOM   PAULDING. 

With  the  same  solemnity,  Cissy  whispered  back,  "  As  he 
sailed."     Then  he  extended  his  right  hand. 

Tom  Paulding  grasped  this  firmly  in  his  own,  slipping  his 
little  finger  between  Cissy's  third  and  little  fingers ;  then  he 
pressed  the  back  of  Cissy's  hand  three  times  with  his  own 
thumb. 

These  proper  formalities  having  been  observed  with  due 
decorum,  the  boys  released  their  grasp  and  walked  together 
to  the  bonfire. 

"  What  made  you  so  late,  Tom  ? "  asked  Corkscrew. 

"My  mother  kept  me  while  she  finished  a  letter  to  my 
Uncle  Dick  that  she  wanted  me  to  mail  for  her,"  Tom  Pauld- 
ing replied ;   "  and  besides  I  had  to  find  my  dark  lantern." 

"  Have  you  got  it  here  ? "  said  Cissy. 

"  Oh,  do  let  me  see  it !  "  cried  little  Jimmy  Wigger. 

Tom  Paulding  unbuttoned  his  jacket  and  took  the  lantern 
from  his  belt.  There  was  at  once  perceptible  a  strong  odor 
of  burnt  varnish ;  but  the  circle  of  admiring  boys  did  not 
mind  this.  The  possession  of  a  dark  lantern  increased  their 
admiration  for  its  owner,  who  was  a  favorite,  partly  from  his 
frank  and  pleasant  manner,  and  partly  because  of  his  ingenu- 
ity in  devising  new  sports.  It  was  Tom  Paulding  who  had 
started  the  Black  Band,  a  society  of  thirteen  boys  all  solemnly 
bound  to  secrecy  and  to  be  faithful,  one  to  another,  whatever 
might  befall.  Cissy  Smith,  as  the  oldest  of  the  thirteen,  had 
been  elected  captain,  at  Tom's  suggestion,  and  Tom  himself 
.'was  lieutenant. 

"  Is  it  lighted  ? "  little  Jimmy  Wigger  asked,  as  he  caught 


AROUND   THE  BONFIRE.  15 

sight  of  a  faint  spot  of  light  at  the  back  of  the  dark  lantern 
in  Tom's  hand. 

"  Of  course  it  is,"  Tom  replied,  and  he  turned  the  bull's-eye 
toward  the  rugged  wall  of  rocks  which  arose  at  the  side  of 
the  street,  and  pulled  the  slide.  A  faint  disk  of  light  ap- 
peared on  the  stones. 

"  That 's  bully !  "  said  Harry  Zachary,  in  his  usual  hesita- 
ting voice.     "  I  wish  I  had  one  !  " 

"  What  good  is  a  dark  lantern,  anyhow  ? "  asked  Corkscrew 
Lott,  who  was  almost  as  envious  as  he  was  curious.  "  What 
did  you  bring  it  out  for  1 " 

"Well,"  Tom  answered,  "I  had  a  reason.  We  had  n't 
agreed  what  the  Black  Band  was  to  be  this  evening ;  and  I 
thought  if  we  were  burglars,  for  instance,  it  would  be  useful 
to  have  a  dark  lantern." 

"  Hooray !  "  said  Cissy.     "  Let 's  be  burglars." 
i   There  was  a  general  cry  of  assent  to  this  proposition. 

"A  burglar  always  has  a  dark  lantern,"  Tom  went  on, 
"and  he  'most  always  has  a  jimmy — " 

"Well,  where  's  your  jimmy  ? "  interrupted  Lott. 

"  Here  it  is,"  Tom  answered,  taking  a  dark  stick  from  its 
place  of  concealment  in  the  back  of  his  jacket.  "  It  ought 
to  be  iron,  you  know ;  a  jimmy  's  a  sort  of  baby  crowbar. 
But  I  made  this  out  of  an  old  broomstick  I  got  from  our 
Katie.  I  whittled  it  down  to  the  right  shape  at  the  end,  and 
then  I  polished  it  off  with  blacking  and  a  shoe-brush.  It 
does  look  like  iron,  does  n't  it  ? " 

The  jimmy  was  passed  from  hand  to  hand,  and  met  with 


1G  TOM   PAULDING. 

general  approval.  Even  Corkscrew  Lott  had  no  fault  to  find 
with  it. 

"  We  ought  to  have  everything  real  burglars  have,  if  we 
are  going  into  the  burgling  business,"  added  Tom. 

"  If  we  are  burglars,"  said  little  Jimmy  Wigger,  in  a  plaint- 
ive voice,  "  can't  we  begin  burgling  soon  ?  Because  my  aunt 
says  I  must  be  home  by  eight  this  evening,  sure." 

"  I  said  it  was  a  mistake  to  let  that  baby  into  the  Black 
Band,"  Corkscrew  remarked ;  "  a  pretty  burglar  he  '11  make  !  " 

"  Yes,  I  will !  "  cried  little  Jimmy,  sturdily ;  "  I  '11  make  as 
good  a  burglar  as  you  any  day  !  " 

"  I  could  tell  you  stories  about  burglars  that  would  make 
your  hair  curl,"  said  Harry  Zachary,  noticing  that  little 
Jimmy  had  shrunk  back. 

"  Then  tell  them  to  Tom  Paulding,"  Lott  cried ;  "  he  likes 
to  have  his  hair  curl.     I  believe  he  puts  it  up  in  curl-papers !  " 

Now,  if  there  was  one  thing  which  annoyed  Tom  more  than 
another,  it  was  that  his  hair  was  curly,  "  like  a  girl's  "  as  he 
had  said  in  disgust  to  his  sister  only  that  morning.  And  if 
there  was  any  member  of  the  Black  Band  toward  whom  he 
did  not  feel  a  brotherly  cordiality,  it  was  Lott. 

"  Look  here,  Corkscrew,"  he  said  hotly,  "  you  let  my  hah* 
alone,  or  I  '11  punch  your  head  !  " 

"  You  had  better  not  try  it,"  returned  Lott.  "  You  could  n't 
do  it." 

"  We  '11  see  about  that,  if  you  say  anything  more  against 
my  hair !  "  Tom  replied. 

"  I  '11  say  what  I  please,"  responded  Corkscrew. 


AROUND   THE   BONFIRE.  17 

By  this  time  Tom  had  recovered  his  temper. 

"Say  what  you  please/'  he  answered,  *<and  if  it  does  n't 
please  me,  we  '11  have  it  out.  The  sooner  we  do,  the  better ; 
for  I  don't  believe  we  can  get  through  the  winter  without  a 
fight,  and  I  sha'n't  be  sorry  to  have  it  over." 

"  Silence  in  the  ranks,"  ordered  the  Captain  of  the  Black 
Band,  as  he  saw  that  Lott  was  ready  to  keep  up  the  quarrel. 
"  Is  it  agreed  that  we  are  to  be  burglars  ? " 

"No,"  answered  Corkscrew  quickly,  before  any  of  the 
others  could  speak.  "  We  have  n't  got  all  the  things.  Let 's 
be  Indians  on  the  war-path.  We  've  got  a  bully  fire  now, 
and  it 's  the  only  night  we  can  have  it.  So  we  can  play  we  Ve 
a  captive,  and  we  can  burn  him  at  the  stake,  and  have  a 
scalp-dance  around  the  barrel." 

"  That  's  a  good  idea,"  Harry  Zachary  agreed.  "  They 
won't  let  us  have  a  bonfire  except  on  election  night." 

"  That 's  so,"  Cissy  admitted. 

Lott  saw  his  advantage  and  seized  it  promptly. 

"  We  can  be  burglars  any  time,"  he  cried,  "  if  we  want  to. 
But  to-night  's  the  best  time  to  be  Indians.  It  's  our  only 
chance  to  burn  a  captive  at  the  stake." 

"We  might  make  him  run  the  gantlet  first,"  suggested 
Harry  Zachary,  who  was  a  delicate  boy  of  a  very  mild  ap- 
pearance, but  strangely  fertile  in  sanguinary  suggestions. 

"  Let  little  Jimmy  Wigger  be  the  captive,"  Lott  proposed. 
"We  won't  hurt  him  much." 

"No,  you  don't,"  Tom  Paulding  interposed.  "Little 
Jimmy  is  too  young.     Besides,  when  his  aunt  let  him  join 


18  TOM   PAULDING. 

the  Black  Band,  I  promised  that  I  would  keep  him  out  of 
mischief." 

"Then  who  '11  run  the  gantlet?"  asked  Lott,  sulkily. 

"  I  will/'  Tom  answered.  "  I  'd  just  as  lief.  In  fact,  I  'd 
liefer.  I  Ve  never  been  burned  at  the  stake  yet,  and  the 
Sioux  shall  see  how  a  Pawnee  can  die !  " 

Then,  at  the  command  of  Cissy  Smith,  the  Black  Band 
formed  in  a  double  row  facing  inward,  and  Tom  Paidding 
ran  the  gantlet.  When  he  came  to  the  end  of  the  lines  he 
broke  away,  and  the  whole  troop  pursued  him.  After  a 
sharp  run  he  was  caught,  and  brought  back  to  the  bonfire. 
More  fuel  was  heaped  upon  this,  and  it  blazed  up  fiercely. 
A  stake  was  driven  into  the  ground  not  far  from  the  fire, 
and  Tom  was  tied  to  it,  with  his  hands  behind  him.  Then, 
under  the  leadership  of  Cissy  Smith,  the  Black  Band  circled 
about  the  fire  and  the  stake,  with  Indian  yells  and  shrill 
whistles.  As  the  flames  rose  and  fell  on  the  shouting  boys 
and  on  the  broken  rocks  which  towered  high  above  them  on 
both  sides,  an  imaginative  spectator  might  almost  have  fan- 
cied himself  gazing  at  some  strange  rite  of  the  redskins  in  a 
far  canon  of  Colorado. 


CHAPTER   III. 


A   WALK   BY   THE   RIVER. 


BOUT  six  o'clock  Jimmy  Wigger's  aunt 
came  for  him.  He  begged  hard  for  only 
a  few  minutes  more,  but  she  did  not  yield 
and  he  went  away  reluctantly.  Other 
members  of  the  Black  Band  remembered 
that  their  suppers  would  be  waiting  for 
them  ;  and  soon  the  assembly  broke  up.  The  smaller  boys 
were  the  first  to  go,  and  the  Captain  and  Lieutenant  of  the 
Black  Band  were  the  last  to  leave  the  blazing  barrel  which 
now  was  almost  burnt  out. 

Tom  Paulding  had  released  himself  from  the  bonds  that 
bound  him  to  the  stake ;  and  as  he  was  stooping  over  the 
embers  to  warm  his  hands,  Cissy  Smith  proposed  that  they 
should  go  for  a  walk  through  the  woods  between  the  River- 
side Drive  and  the  river.  Tom  agreed  at  once,  and  asked 
Harry  Zachary  to  come  also. 

Corkscrew  Lott  had  started  off  ahead  of  them,  but  at  the 
first  corner  he,  too,  joined  the  group. 

The  boys  walked  down  the  street  four  abreast,  Cissy  rolling 


22  TOM   PAULDING. 

along  irregularly  in  his  usual  fashion.  They  crossed  the 
Riverside  Drive  and  stood  for  a  minute  at  the  head  of  the 
stone  steps  that  led  to  the  strip  of  steep  woodland  below. 
There  was  a  sharp  whistle  in  the  distance,  and  then  an  ad- 
vancing roar;  and  a  short  passenger  train  rushed  rapidly 
past  them,  the  flying  white  steam  from  the  engine  reddened 
by  the  glare  from  the  furnace  as  the  fireman  threw  in  fresh 
fuel.  Out  on  the  broad  river  beyond,  one  of  the  night-boats 
went  up  the  river,  its  rippling  wake  gleaming  in  the  bluish 
moonlight. 

"  I  wonder  why  little  Jimmy's  aunt  came  for  him  so  early," 
said  Corkscrew,  twisting  himself  up  on  the  parapet  to  get  a 
good  look  over  it. 

"  If  she  'd  found  him  tied  to  the  stake,  and  the  Black  Band 
scalp-dancing  all  around  him,  she  'd  have  been  'most  scared 
out  of  a  year's  growth,  I  reckon,"  Harry  Zachary  commented. 
His  mother  was  a  Kentuckian,  and  it  was  from  her  that  he 
learned  his  gentle  ways  and  his  excellent  manners.  He  had 
taken  also  from  her  an  occasional  Southern  phrase  not  com- 
mon in  New  York. 

"  I  don't  believe  it  would  be  much  fun  to  be  an  Indian 
really,"  Cissy  remarked.  "  I  guess  they  have  a  pretty  hard 
time  of  it  when  it 's  cold  and  rainy — leastwise  those  I  've 
seen  West  did  n't  seem  any  too  set  up  and  happy."  Cissy's 
father,  Dr.  Smith,  had  only  a  short  time  before  removed  to 
New  York  from  Denver. 

"Have  you  seen  real  Indians  out  West?"  asked  Tom 
Paulding.     "Were  they  on  the  war-path?" 


A   WALK  BY   THE   RIVER.  23 

"Not  much  they  were  n't.  They  were  coming  into  the 
agency  to  get  their  rations,"  Cissy  answered. 

"  Did  you  kill  any  of  'em  when  you  had  the  chance  ? " 
asked  Harry  in  his  usual  timid  voice. 

"I  did  n't  kill  'em.  Of  course  not,"  Cissy  responded. 
"Why  should  I?" 

Tom  Paulding  was  kindly  by  nature,  but  he  was  a  little 
disappointed  to  learn  that  his  friend  had  neglected  a  chance 
to  kill  a  redskin. 

"  Perhaps  you  've  never  read  a  book  called  '  Nick  of  the 
Woods '  ? "  Harry  Zachary  inquired.  "  That  tells  all  about 
a  man  they  called  the  Jibbenainosay,  who  lived  in  the  forest 
and  killed  Indians,  and  marked  every  man  he  killed  so  that 
they  should  know  the  handiwork  of  the  Mysterious  Avenger." 

"  My  Uncle  Dick,  when  he  went  up  to  the  Black  Hills,  had 
a  fight  with  the  Indians,"  said  Tom. 

"  How  many  did  he  kill  ? "  asked  Corkscrew,  promptly. 

"He  did  n't  know,"  replied  Tom,  "but — " 

"  If  he  did  n't  know  how  many  he  killed  what  was  the  use 
of  talking  about  it?"  Harry  Zachary  asked.  "That  is  n't 
any  way  to  do.  The  best  plan  is  to  be  alone  in  the  woods, 
and  take  'em  by  surprise,  and  kill  'em,  one  by  one,  and  mark 
'em." 

"  And  suppose  one  of  them  takes  you  by  surprise  and  kills 
you,  what  then  "1 "  Cissy  interposed. 

"  I  reckon  I  'd  have  to  take  my  chances,  if  I  was  an 
Avenger,"  Harry  admitted.  "But  in  the  books  they 'most 
always  get  the  best  of  it." 


24  TOM   PAULDING. 

"  Let 's  go  down  to  the  water  as  we  said  we  would,"  sug- 
gested Cissy. 

"  Look  at  that  schooner,"  Tom  cried,  as  they  were  going 
down  the  long  stone  stairway.  "She  's  a  beauty,  and  no 
mistake." 

"  That 's  the  kind  of  a  ship  I  'd  have  if  I  was  a  pirate  like 
Lafitte,"  said  Harry  Zachary. 

"  How  can  you  be  a  pirate  now,  when  there  are  policemen 
everywhere  ? "  asked  Cissy,  scornfully. 

"I  'd  like  to  be  a  pirate  some  place  where  there  are  n't 
any  policemen,"  Harry  explained.  "  Down  in  Patagonia,  or 
up  in  Greenland,  or  somewhere." 

"  They  'd  be  sure  to  send  a  big  frigate  after  you,"  said 
Tom  Paulding ;   "  they  always  do." 

"  Then  I  'd  fight  the  frigate  till  the  deck  ran  with  blood," 
persisted  Harry,  with  a  tone  of  excitement  in  his  gentle 
voice.  "  I  'd  nail  the  black  flag  to  the  mast ;  and  if  they  got 
the  better  of  us  I  'd  fire  the  powder-magazine  and  blow  up 
the  whole  boat — and  that  would  surprise  them,  I  reckon." 

"  It  is  n't  the  kind  of  surprise  party  I  want,"  said  Cissy 
emphatically,  as  the  boys  came  to  a  halt  among  the  trees 
near  the  railroad  track  by  the  edge  of  the  river. 

"How  many  pirates  would  there  be  on  a  boat  like  that?" 
inquired  Lott. 

"How  many  beans  make  five?"  Cissy  Smith  answered 
sarcastically.     "  There  's  a  Boston  problem  for  you." 

Lott  had  been  born  in  Boston,  and  he  had  lived  in  New 
York  less  than  a  year. 


A   WALK   BY   THE   RIVER.  25 

"I  wish  I  knew  a  place  where  a  pirate  had  buried  his 
treasure/'  he  remarked,  paying  no  attention  to  Smith's  taunt. 

"  Now,  there  's  another  thing  that 's  great  fun,"  Harry  in- 
terjected, "  and  that 's  hunting  for  buried  treasure.  I  Ve 
read  all  about  that  in  a  story  called  '  The  Gold  Bug.'  It 's 
pretty  interesting,  I  reckon,  to  dig  under  a  tree  with  a  skele- 
ton or  a  skull  on  one  branch,  and  to  find  thousands  and 
thousands  of  guineas  and  doubloons  and  pieces-of-eight." 

"  Pieces  of  eight  what  ? "  asked  Cissy. 

"  Pieces-of-eight — why,  that  's  just  the  name  they  have 
for  them.  They  're  some  kind  of  a  coin,  I  reckon,"  replied 
Harry. 

"  Pieces  of  eight  cents,  very  likely,"  Cissy  returned.  "  I 
don't  believe  it 's  worth  while  wearing  yourself  out  with 
hard  labor  just  to  dig  up  a  few  pieces  of  eight  cents.  And 
who  would  all  these  guineas  and  doubloons  and  pieces  of 
eight  cents  belong  to  when  you  found  'em  ? " 

"  They  'd  belong  to  us,  I  reckon,"  answered  Harry. 

"And  just  suppose  they  did  n't?"  retorted  Cissy. 

"  Suppose  the  rightful  owner  turned  up,"  suggested  Tom 
Paulding ;  "  the  man  who  had  buried  the  money  during  the 
war,  or  the  son  of  the  man,  or  his  grandson  ? " 

Harry  Zachary  was  a  little  taken  aback  at  this.  His 
manner,  always  gentle  and  shy,  now  seemed  milder  than 
ever. 

"  Well,"  he  said  at  last,  "  I  reckon  I  d  have  the  luck  to  find 

the  treasure  that  belonged  to  our  family — that  had  been  hid 

by  mv  father,  maybe,  or  my  grandfather." 
3 


26  TOM   PAULDING. 

" Shucks!  "  cried  Cissy,  forcibly.  "Being  a  pirate  where 
there  's  uo  police  and  finding  buried  treasure  that  belongs 
to  you-^I  don't  think  that 's  so  very  exciting,  do  you?" 

Harry  Zachary  felt  that  this  was  a  home  thrust,  and  he 
had  no  retort  ready.  Tom  Paulding  came  to  his  rescue  and 
gave  a  practical  turn  to  the  talk. 

"  There  's  a  buried  treasure  belonging  to  us,  somewhere," 
he  said,  conscious  of  the  envy  this  remark  would  excite. 

"  Where  is  it  ? "  asked  Corkscrew,  promptly. 

"  If  he  knew  where  it  was,  don't  you  suppose  he  'd  hustle 
round  and  get  it  ? "  Cissy  remarked. 

"  It  is  n't  really  buried  treasure,"  explained  Tom,  "  at  least, 
we  don't  know  whether  it  's  buried  or  not,  or  what  has 
become  of  it.  You  see,  it  's  just  a  lot  of  money  that  was 
stolen  from  my  great-grandfather  during  the  Revolutionary 
War." 

"  I  guess  the  great-grandchildren  of  the  man  that  stole  it 
have  a  better  chance  of  getting  it  than  you  have,"  said  Cissy. 

"  He  did  n't  leave  any  family — he  did  n't  leave  any  trace 
of  himself,  even,"  Tom  replied.  "  He  just  disappeared,  tak- 
ing the  money  with  him.  He  's  never  been  seen  or  heard  of 
since,  so  my  mother  told  me." 

"  And  I  guess  the  money  will  never  be  seen  or  heard  of, 
either,"  Cissy  remarked. 

"How  much  was  it?"  Corkscrew  inquired. 

"  Oh,  a  lot !  "  Tom  answered  ;  "  several  thousand  pounds 
— as  much  gold  as  a  man  could  carry.  He  took  all  he  could 
lift  comfortably." 


A   WALK   BY   THE   RIVER.  27 

"  What  would  you  do  with  it,  if  you  had  it  ? "  asked  Cork- 
screw. 

"  I  'd  pay  off  the  mortgage  on  our  house,"  said  Tom, 
promptly.  ';And  I  'd  get  lots  of  things  for  Pauline — my 
sister,  you  know ;  and  instead  of  going  into  a  store  as  I  've 
got  to  do  next  winter,  I  'd  study  to  be  a  mining  engineer." 

"I'd  rather  be  a  soldier,"  Harry  Zachary  declared. 
"  What  would  you  like  to  be,  Cissy  ? " 

"  It  does  n't  make  any  matter  what  I  'd  like  to  be,"  replied 
Cissy  j  "I  know  what  I  am  going  to  be — and  that 's  a  doctor. 
Pa  says  that  he  '11  need  an  assistant  by  the  time  I  'm  through 
the  medical  school,  and  he  allows  he  can  ring  me  in  on  his 
patients." 

"  I  have  n't  made  up  my  mind  what  I  'd  like  to  be,"  said 
Lott.  "At  first  I  thought  I  'd  choose  to  be  an  expressman, 
because  then  I  'd  get  inside  all  sorts  of  houses,  and  see  how 
the  people  lived,  and  learn  all  sorts  of  things.  But  I  've  been 
thinking  it  might  be  more  fun  to  be  a  detective,  because  then 
I  could  find  out  anything  I  wanted  to  know." 

"  I  guess  it  would  take  the  Astor  Library  to  hold  all  you 
want  to  know,  Corkscrew,"  said  Cissy,  pleasantly,  as  the  boys 
began  to  retrace  their  steps  up  the  hill ;  "  but  all  you  're 
likely  to  find  out  could  be  put  in  a  copybook !  " 

Lott  fell  back  a  little  and  walked  by  the  side  of  Harry 
Zachary. 

"  I  wonder  what  makes  Cissy  Smith  so  pernickety,"  he  said. 
"  He 's  always  poking  fun  at  me." 

"  I  would  n't  mind  him  now,"  responded  Harry,  consolingly, 


28  TOM    PAULDING. 

"  and  when  you  are  a  detective  you  can  find  out  something 
about  him  and  arrest  him." 

This  comforting  suggestion  helped  to  keep  up  Lott's 
spirits,  although  Smith  made  more  than  one  other  sarcastic 
remark  as  the  four  climbed  the  hillside  together. 

"  I  can't  bear  that  Corkscrew,"  Cissy  confessed  to  Tom  in 
a  whisper. 

"  Well,"  Tom  answered,  also  in  a  whisper,  "  I  don't  know 
that  I  really  like  him,  myself.  But  he  's  one  of  the  Black 
Band  now,  and  I  suppose  we  must  stand  by  him." 

When  the  boys  came  out  again  on  the  high  parapet  of  the 
Riverside  Drive,  it  was  time  for  them  to  go  home.  They 
went  through  the  parting  rites  of  the  Black  Band.  Cissy  ex- 
tended his  right  hand  and  gave  Tom  the  secret  grip  of  the 
society,  while  Lott  and  Harry  Zachary  clasped  their  hands  in 
the  same  mystic  manner  above  Tom's  and  Cissy's. 

Then  Tom  left  them  and  went  homeward.  He  lived 
with  his  mother  and  his  sister  in  an  old  wooden  house 
in  a  side  street  not  far  from  the  steps  they  had  just  as- 
cended. The  other  three  boys  lived  farther  down  along  the 
Park. 

When  Tom  reached  the  flight  of  wooden  steps  that  rose 
from  the  sidewalk  to  the  rocky  terrace  above,  where  his 
mother's  house  was,  he  stood  still  for  a  moment.  Then  he 
gave  the  same  whistle  with  which  Cissy  had  greeted  him  when 
he  drew  near  the  bonfire  that  afternoon  : 


A   WALK   BY    THE    RIVER.  29 

From  over  the  houses  and  the  little  hills  which  separated 
his  home  from  Cissy's,  he  heard  the  answer : 


mz=£&^~m 


Then  the  Captain  of  the  Black  Band  and  the  Lieutenant 
knew  that  all  was  well ;  and  they  went  in  and  went  to  sleep 
with  clear  consciences. 

The  talk  that  evening  had  turned  Tom's  thoughts  to  a 
search  for  the  stolen  gold,  and  he  dreamed  of  finding  it  in  a 
cave  like  the  one  the  Forty  Thieves  lived  in.  But  in  the  mid- 
dle of  his  desperate  struggle  with  six  ferocious  robbers  (one 
of  whom  had  only  one  arm)  there  came  a  tap  on  his  door,  and 
he  waked  with  a  start. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


PAULINE   AND   THE    CAREFUL   KATJE. 


HE  house  in  which  Tom  Paulding  lived 
with  his  mother  and  sister  had  origi- 
nally been  a  small  farmhouse.  It  had 
been  built  just  before  the  Revolution 
and  by  Tom's  great-grandfather,  the 
officer  from  whom  the  gold  had  been 
stolen.  It  was  a  square  wooden  house 
with  gable-ends  and  with  a  door  in  the  middle ;  there  was  a 
little  porch  before  the  door  with  a  vine  climbing  by  the  white 
wooden  pillars.  Originally  it  had  stood  on  a  knoll,  overlooking 
the  broad  acres  of  the  farm  as  they  sloped  down  to  the  river. 
When  the  streets  were  regularly  laid  out  through  that  part  of 
the  city,  making  the  upper  portion  of  Manhattan  Island  as  like 
as  possible  to  a  flat  gridiron,  a  lower  level  was  chosen  than 
that  of  the  house.  The  stony  hill  was  cut  through,  and  the 
house  now  stood  high  on  a  bluff,  rising  sheer  and  jagged  above 
the  sidewalk.  A  flight  of  wooden  steps  led  from  the  street  to 
the  top  of  the  knoll ;  and  thence  a  short  walk  paved  with  well- 
worn  flagstones  stretched  to  the  front  door.     The  house  had 


PAULINE   AND   THE   CAKEFUL   KATIE.  31 

been  so  planted  on  the  hill  that  it  might  command  the  most 
agreeable  view ;  but  the  streets  had  been  driven  past  it 
rigidly  at  right  angles  to  the  avenues,  and  so  the  house  was 
now  "  eater-cornered  "  across  one  end  of  a  block. 

In  the  century  and  a  quarter  since  Nicholas  Paulding  had 
bought  a  farm  -and  built  him  a  house,  the  fortunes  of  his 
children  and  grandchildren  had  risen  and  fallen.  He  himself 
had  been  a  paymaster  in  Washington's  army  ;  and  after  the 
Revolution  he  had  prospered  and  enlarged  his  domain.  But 
as  he  grew  old  he  made  an  unfortunate  use  of  his  money, 
and  when  he  died  his  estate  wras  heavily  involved.  His  son, 
Wyllys  Paulding  (Tom's  grandfather),  had  done  what  he 
could  to  set  in  order  the  family  affairs,  but  he  died  while 
yet  a  young  man  and  before  he  had  succeeded  in  putting 
their  fortunes  on  a  firm  basis.  Wyllys's  son,  Stuyvesant 
(Tom's  father),  struggled  long  and  unavailingTy.  Like 
Wyllys  and  like  Nicholas,  Stuyvesant  Paulding  was  an 
only  child ;  and  Tom  Paulding  so  far  carried  out  this  tradi- 
tion of  the  family  that  he  was  an  only  son  and  had  but  one 
sister. 

Stuyvesant  Paulding  had  died  suddenly,  when  Tom  wras 
about  five  years  old,  leaving  his  widow  and  his  children 
nothing  but  the  house  in  wrhich  they  lived  and  the  insurance 
on  his  lif e.  Bit  by  bit  the  farm  had  been  sold  to  meet  press- 
ing debts,  until  at  last  there  was  left  in  the  possession  of 
Nicholas  Paulding's  grandson  but  a  very  small  portion  of 
the  many  acres  Nicholas  Paulding  had  owned — only  the 
house  and  the  three  city  lots  across  which  it  stood.     And 


32  TOM   PAULDING. 

upon  these  lots  and  the  house  there  was  a  mortgage,  the  in- 
terest on  which  Tom's  mother  often  found  it  very  hard  to 
meet. 

Tom's  mother  was  a  cheerful  little  woman ;  and  she  was 
glad  that  she  had  a  roof  over  her  head,  and  that  she  was  able 
to  bring  up  her  children  and  give  them  an  education.  The 
roof  over  her  head  was  stanch,  and  the  old  house  was  as 
sound  as  when  it  was  built.  Mrs.  Paulding  was  very  fond 
of  her  home,  and  she  used  to  tell  Tom  and  Pauline  that  they 
were  perhaps  the  only  boy  and  girl  in  all  New  York  city 
with  its  million  and  a  half  of  inhabitants,  who  had  been  born 
in  a  house  built  by  their  own  great-grandfather. 

The  household  was  small ;  it  consisted  of  Mrs.  Paulding, 
Tom,  his  sister  Pauline,  and  the  Careful  Katie. 

Cissy  Smith  had  once  told  Tom  that  Mrs.  Paulding  was 
"the  nicest  old  lady  in  the  world,"  —  and  Tom  had  indig- 
nantly denied  that  his  mother  was  old.  Perhaps  she  was  not 
old,  but  assuredly  she  was  no  longer  young.  She  was  a  trim 
little  woman  with  a  trim  little  figure.  Her  dark-brown  hair 
was  turning  gray  under  the  widow's  cap  that  she  had  worn 
ever  since  Tom's  father  died.  She  was  good-natured  and 
even-tempered ;  her  children  had  never  seen  her  angry,  how- 
ever they  might  try  her ;  to  them  she  was  always  cheery  and 
she  seemed  always  hopeful.  As  far  as  she  might  have  power, 
the  path  of  life  should  always  be  smooth  before  her  chil- 
dren's feet. 

Tom  Paulding  was  the  second  member  of  the  family ;  and 
he  often  looked  forward  to  the  time  when  he  should  be  a 


PAULINE  AND  THE  CAREFUL  KATIE.        33 

man,  that  he  might  do  something  for  his  mother  and  for  his 
sister. 

Tom  called  his  sister  "Polly,"  but  her  name  really  was 
Pauline.  She  was  nearly  twelve  years  old,  and  she  was 
rather  short  for  her  years ;  she  kept  hoping  to  be  taller  when 
she  was  older. 

"  How  can  I  ever  feel  grown  up,  if  I  have  n't  grown  any  ? " 
she  once  asked  her  mother. 

She  was  rather  pretty,  and  she  had  light-brown  hair,  which 
she  wore  down  her  back  in  a  pigtail.  To  live  in  a  house 
with  a  little  spare  ground  about  it  was  to  her  a  constant  de- 
light. One  of  the  two  trees  which  Nicholas  Paulding  had 
planted  before  his  door-step,  an  ample  maple,  now  spread  its 
branches  almost  over  the  porch;  and  to  this  tree  Pauline 
had  taken  a  great  fancy  when  she  was  but  a  baby.  She 
called  it  lier  tree ;  and  she  used  to  go  out  and  talk  to  it  and 
tell  it  her  secrets.  Tom  had  made  her  a  seat  on  one  side  of 
this  tree ;  and  there  she  liked  to  sit  with  the  cat  and  the  kit- 
ten. She  was  very  fond  of  cats,  and  she  had  generally  a 
vagrant  kitten  or  two,  outcast  and  ragged,  whom  she  was 
feeding  and  petting.  "With  all  animals  she  was  friendly. 
The  goats  which  browsed  the  rocks  on  which  stood  Mrs. 
Rafferty's  shanty,  two  blocks  above  on  Pauline's  way  to 
school,  knew  her  and  walked  contentedly  by  her  side ;  and 
the  old  horse  which  was  always  stationed  before  the  shanty, 
attached  to  a  decrepit  cart  labeled  "  Rafferty's  Express,"  knew 
Polly  and  would  affably  eat  the  apple  she  took  from  her 
luncheon  for  him.     The  name  of  this  old  horse  was  "  Daniel." 


34  TOM   PAULDING. 

There  was  not  an  animal  anywhere  on  the  line  of  Pauline's 
daily-  walk  to  and  from  school  that  did  not  know  her  and 
love  her. 

The  fourth  member  of  the  household,  and  in  some  respects 
the  most  important,  was  the  Careful  Katie.  She  was  a  ro- 
bust, hearty  Irishwoman  who  had  been  in  Mrs.  Paulding's 
service  for  years.  She  had  come  to  the  young  couple  when 
Tom's  father  and  mother  were  first  married,  and  she  had 
remained  with  the  family  ever  since.  She  had  been  Tom's 
nurse  and  then  she  had  been  Polly's  nurse.  Now,  in  their 
reduced  circumstances,  she  was  their  only  servant,  strong 
enough  to  do  anything  and  willing  to  do  everything.  She 
could  cook  excellently ;  she  was  indefatigable  in  housework 
and  in  the  laundry ;  she  was  a  good  nurse  in  sickness ;  and 
she  had  even  attempted  to  raise  a  few  vegetables,  chiefly  pota- 
toes and  beans,  in  the  little  plot  of  ground  on  one  side  of  the 
house.  She  was  never  tired  and  she  was  never  cross.  She 
was  a  "  Household  Treasure,"  so  said  Mrs.  Paulding,  who  also 
wondered  frequently  how  she  could  ever  get  on  without  her. 

She  had  two  defects  only,  and  these  in  a  measure  neutral- 
ized each  other.  The  first  was  that  she  thought  she  wished 
to  go  back  to  Ireland ;  and  so  she  gave  Mrs.  Paulding  warn- 
ing and  made  ready  to  depart  about  once  every  six  weeks. 
But  she  had  never  gone ;  and  Mrs.  Paulding  was  beginning 
to  believe  that  she  never  would  go.  The  second  of  her  fail- 
ings was  that  she  was  conscious  of  her  long  service,  of  her 
affection  for  Mrs.  Paulding  and  for  the  two  children,  and  of 
her  fidelity ;  and  so  she  had  come  to  accept  herself  as  one  of 


8mfi??SL ,    y- 


■trim 


"TOM    HAD    MADE    HER    A    SEAT    ON    ONE    SIDE    OF    THIS    TREE;     AND    THERE    SHE    LIKED 
TO    SIT    WITH    THE    CAT    AND    THE    KITTEN." 


PAULINE   AND   THE   CAREFUL   KATIE.  37 

the  family  and  to  believe  that  she  was  therefore  authorized 
to  rule  the  household  with  a  rod  of  iron.  She  was  so  fond 
of  them  all  that  she  insisted  on  their  doing  what  she  thought 
best  for  them,  and  not  what  they  themselves  might  prefer. 
There  were  times  when  the  Careful  Katie  carried  things  with 
so  high  a  hand  that  Mrs.  Paulding  caught  herself  half  wish- 
ing that  the  attraction  of  Ireland  might  prove  potent  enough 
to  entice  the  child  of  Erin  back  to  her  native  isle. 

It  remains  to  be  recorded,  moreover,  that  the  Careful  Katie 
was  very  superstitious.  She  accepted  everything  as  a  sign  or 
a  warning.  She  would  never  look  over  her  left  shoulder  at 
the  new  moon.  She  was  prompt  to  throw  salt  over  her  right 
shoulder,  if  by  chance  any  were  spilt  while  she  was  waiting 
at  table.  She  declared  that  a  ring  at  the  bell  at  midnight, 
three  nights  running,  foreboded  a  death  in  the  family. 

On  the  morning  after  election-day,  the  morning  after  the 
Black  Band  had  made  Tom  Paulding  run  the  gantlet,  and 
had  tied  him  to  the  stake,  and  had  danced  a  scalp-dance 
about  him  while  he  bravely  chanted  his  defiant  death-song, 
the  imitator  of  Hard-Heart  and  Uncas  was  late  for  breakfast. 

Mrs.  Paulding  and  Pauline  were  at  table,  and  the  Careful 
Katie  had  placed  the  coffee-pot  before  his  mother  and  the 
plate  of  hot  biscuit  before  his  sister;  and  Tom's  chair  was 
ready  for  him,  but  he  had  not  yet  appeared. 

"  It 's  late  Master  Tom  is,"  remarked  the  Irish  member  of 
the  family.     "  Will  I  caU  him  ? " 

The  Careful  Katie  was  fond  of  hearing  herself  talk,  and 
she  was  always  ready  to  take  part  in  the  conversation  at  the 


38  TOM  PAULDING. 

dinner-table ;  but  her  use  of  the  English  language  left  some- 
thing to  be  desired. 

"  Tom  will  be  down  in  a  minute,"  said  Pauline ;  "I  knocked 
on  his  door  as  I  passed,  and  waked  him  up,  and  I  kept  on 
knocking  till  I  heard  him  get  out  of  bed,  and  then  he  threw 
a  pillow  at  me  down  the  stairs." 

"  An'  who 's  to  be  washin'  that  same  pillow-case,  I  'd  like 
to  know?  It  is  n't  yous  that  '11  do  it — it  '11  be  me,  I  'm 
thinkin',"  said  the  Irishwoman. 

"  Katie,"  interposed  Pauline,  pausing  in  her  breakfast,  "  if 
you  were  a  good  girl,  a  real  good  girl,  you  would  bring 
'  Pussy '  up  and  '  Bobby,'  and  let  me  give  them  their  break- 
fast." 

"An'  where  will  I  find  Pussy?  Bobby  is  quiet  in  the 
kitchen  with  Ins  feet  to  the  fire  like  a  gentleman ;  but  Pussy 
does  be  out  all  night,"  replied  Katie,  adding,  "Ah,  but  there  's 
the  cat  now,  sittin'  outside  the  window  here  as  easy  as  you 
please." 

"  Then  I  '11  let  her  have  her  breakfast  right  away,  if  you 
will  please  excuse  me,  Mama,"  cried  Pauline,  rising  from  the 
table  and  pouring  out  a  saucerful  of  milk. 

She  opened  the  window  and  called  the  cat,  who  came  to 
the  sill  and  stood  expectant.  When  Pauline  was  about  to 
set  the  saucer  outside  for  Pussy  to  drink,  the  Careful  Katie 
saw  what  she  was  doing  and  rushed  across  the  room. 

"  Miss  Polly,"  she  screamed,  "  never  be  doin'  that !  It 's 
main  bad  luck  to  pass  vittles  out  o'  the  window  to  a  Chris- 
tian, let  alone  to  a  cat," 


PAULINE  AND   THE  CAREFUL   KATIE.  39 

Mrs.  Paulding  looked  up  and  smiled,  and  then  quietly 
went  on  eating  her  breakfast. 

"Pauline,"  she  said,  presently,  "your  own  breakfast  will 
be  cold." 

"  But  just  see  how  hungry  Pussy  is,"  the  little  girl  said  as 
she  came  back  to  table. 

"  I  've  a  sup  of  hot  milk  in  the  kitchen,"  remarked  Katie, 
"  an'  1 11  get  it  for  her.  I  Ve  heard  it 's  lucky  to  feed  a  cat, 
an'  when  I  go  back  to  the  old  country,  —  an'  I'm  goin'  soon 
now, — I  hope  a  black  cat  will  walk  in  for  a  visit,  the  very 
first  day  I  'm  home  again."  And  with  this,  she  took  Pussy 
in  through  the  window  and  went  out  into  the  kitchen. 

"  Sometimes  I  wonder  how  I  should  get  along  without 
Katie,"  said  Mrs.  Paulding,  "  and  then,  when  she  frightens 
you  as  she  did  just  now,  and  overrides  us  all,  I  almost  wish 
she  would  go  back  to  Ireland." 

"  We  should  never  get  another  like  her,"  Pauline  declared, 
"  and  she  is  so  good  to  the  pussies." 

"  I  believe  you  think  of  them  first,"  her  mother  said,  smil- 
ing. 

"  The  poor  things  can't  speak  for  themselves,  Mama,"  the 
little  girl  responded ;   "  somebody  must  think  for  them." 

The  clock  on  the  mantel  struck  eight. 

"  Tom  will  be  late,"  said  Mrs.  Paulding. 

"No,  he  won't,"  cried  her  son,  as  he  hastily  entered  the 
room.  He  kissed  his  mother,  and  then  he  took  his  seat  at 
the  table. 


CHAPTER  V. 


AT   THE   BREAKFAST-TABLE. 


RS.  PAULDING  watched  Tom  eat  about 
half  of  his  bowl  of  oatmeal.  Then  she 
asked  gently,  "  How  is  it  you  were  late, 
my  son  ? " 

"  I  overslept  myself,"  Tom  answered, 
"  and  when  Polly  knocked  at  the  door  I 
was  having  a  wonderful  dream. 
"  It  was  about  everything  all  mixed  up,  just  as  it  is  gen- 
erally in  dreams,"  went  on  Tom,  "but  it  began  with  my 
floating  around  the  room.  I  often  dream  I  can  float  about 
in  the  air  just  as  naturally  as  walking  on  the  floor;  and, 
in  my  dream,  when  I  float  around,  nobody  seems  at  all 
surprised,  any  more  than  if  it  was  the  most  ordinary  thing 
to  do. 

"  I  dreamed  that  I  floated  out  to  Mount  Vesuvius,  where 
there  was  an  eruption  going  on  and  the  flames  were  pouring 
out  of  the  crater.  There  I  heard  cries  of  distress,  and  I  found 
seven  great  genies  had  tied  a  fairy  to  a  white  marble  altar, 
and  they  were  dancing  about  her,  and  making  ready  to  stone 


AT   THE   BREAKFAST-TABLE.  41 

her  with  sticky  lumps  of  red-hot  lava.  So  I  floated  over  to 
her  and  asked  her  what  I  could  do  for  her — " 

"  Did  n't  the  seven  evil  spirits  see  you  ? "  interrupted 
Polly. 

"They  didn't  in  the  dream,"  Tom  answered,  "though  now 
I  don't  understand  why  they  did  n't." 

"  Perhaps  the  fairy  had  made  you  invisible,"  explained  his 
sister. 

"That  may  have  been  the  way,"  Tom  admitted.  "So  I 
floated  over  to  the  altar  and  I  asked  what  I  could  do  for  her, 
and  she  whispered  to  stoop  down  and  try  if  I  could  see  three 
flat  stones  in  the  ground — " 

"  Did  you  see  them  ? "  interrupted  Polly  again. 

"  I  did,"  said  Tom ;  "  and  if  you  11  just  let  me  go  on,  you  '11 
get  to  the  end  of  this  story  a  sight  sooner." 

"  I  won't  say  another  word,"  Pauline  said. 

"  The  three  flat  stones  were  just  under  my  feet,"  said  Tom. 
"  The  fairy  told  me  to  lift  the  center  stone  and  she  said  that 
I  should  find  under  it  a  large  copper  ring — " 

"  And  did  y "  began  Polly.     "  Oh  !  "  and  she  suddenly 

stopped. 

"  She  told  me  to  pull  on  the  ring  and  I  would  find  an  iron 
box,"  Tom  went  on,  "  and  in  that  box  was  a  beautiful  silver- 
mounted,  seven-shot  revolver  loaded  with  seven  magic  bullets 
with  which  I  was  to  kill  the  seven  genies.  So  I  took  the  re- 
volver and  I  shot  the  seven  genies,  one  after  the  other ;  and 
then  I  released  the  fairy." 

"  What  did  she  give  you  ? "  asked  Polly,  eagerly. 


42  TOM   PAULDING. 

"  If  you  don't  say  a  word,"  Tom  continued,  "  I  will  inform 
you  that  she  gave  me  three  wishes." 

"  What  did  you  wish  for  ? "  Polly  asked  at  once.  "  I  know 
what  I  should  like.  I  'd  ask  for  a  little  bag  containing  all 
the  things  they  have  in  fairy  stories — a  cap  that  makes  you 
invisible,  and  shoes  that  make  you  go  fast,  and  a  carpet  to 
carry  you  through  the  air,  and  all  the  things  of  that  sort. 
You  see  it  is  always  so  awkward  to  have  the  wrong  tilings ; 
for  instance,  when  there  's  a  great,  big,  green  dragon  coming 
to  eat  you  up  and  you  want  to  be  invisible  all  at  once  and  in 
a  hurry,  it  is  n't  any  use  having  a  purse  that  is  always  full 
of  money.  I  should  ask  for  them  all — and  if  she  was  a  real 
generous  fairy,  she  'd  count  that  as  only  one  wish." 

When  his  sister  had  finished  this  long  speech,  Tom  was 
calmly  eating  the  last  of  his  oatmeal.  She  looked  at  him 
and  cried : 

"  Tom,  you  are  just  too  aggravoking  for  anything.  What 
were  your  three  wishes  ? " 

"  I  don't  know,"  answered  Tom. 

"  Why  not  ? "  asked  Pauline. 

"  Because,"  Tom  responded,  leisurely,  "  you  interrupted  me 
in  my  dream  exactly  as  you  did  just  now.  That  was  as  far 
as  I  'd  got  when  you  waked  me  up." 

"  Oh,  oh  !  "  said  Polly.  "  If  I  'd  known  you  were  going  to 
have  three  wishes,  I  would  n't  have  called  you  for  anything 
in  the  world.  What  were  you  going  to  wish  for  ? "  she  went 
on.     "  Don't  you  remember  now  ? " 

"  I  don't  know  what  I  should  have  wished  for  in  the  dream," 


AT   THE   BREAKFAST-TABLE.  43 

Tom  answered  ;  "  but  I  know  what  I  should  wish  for  now, 
if  a  real,  live,  sure-enough  fairy  gave  me  one  wish.  I  'd  wish 
that  mother's  income  were  just  twice  as  big  as  it  is,  so  that 
she  should  n't  have  to  worry  about  the  mortgage  and  our 
clothes  and  my  education." 

Mrs.  Paulding  held  oat  her  hand,  and  Tom  gave  it  a 
squeeze. 

"You  would  be  glad  to  have  that  Purse  of  Fortunatus 
that  Pauline  despised  so,"  she  said.  "  And  so  should  I.  The 
mortgage  does  bother  me,  now  and  then, —  and  there  are 
other  things,  too.  I  wish  I  had  enough  to  let  you  study  en- 
gineering, since  your  mind  is  made  up  that  you  would  like 
that  best." 

"  My  mind  is  made  up  that  I  'd  like  best  to  be  an  engineer, 
if  I  could,"  Tom  responded ;  "  but  I  sha'n't  complain  a  bit  if 
I  have  to  go  into  a  store  next  year." 

"  I  hope  that  I  shall  at  least  be  able  to  keep  you  at  school," 
said  his  mother. 

"  I  'd  like  to  study  for  a  profession,  mother,  as  you  know," 
he  went  on ;  "  but  I  'm  not  willing  to  have  you  worry 
about  it." 

"  I  think  I  'd  like  to  study  for  a  profession,  too,"  inter- 
rupted Pauline.  "I  'd  like  to  learn  doctory.  We  begin 
physiology  next  term,  and  they  have  a  real  skeleton  for  that 
— ugh  !  it  will  be  great  fun." 

"  You  need  not  shiver  in  anticipation,"  said  her  mother, 
with  a  laugh. 

"Tom,"  Polly  asked,  seriously,  "did  you  ever  have  con- 


44  TOM   PAULDING. 

vulsions?  You  know  I  did — and  when  I  was  only  two 
years  old,  too.  So  when  we  girls  get  a-talking  over  the 
things  we  Ve  all  had,  measles  and  mumps,  and  they  find 
out  I  have  n't  had  whooping-cough, — why,  then  I  just  tell 
them  I  Ve  had  convulsions ;  and  they  have  n't,  not  one  of 
them." 

"  Mother,"  said  Tom,  who  had  been  thinking  quietly  while 
his  sister  rattled  on,  "  you  told  me  once  about  some  money 
that  my  great-grandfather  lost.  Did  n't  anybody  ever  try  to 
find  it?" 

"Yes,"  Mrs.  Paulding  answered.  "Your  grandfather 
made  a  great  search  for  it,  so  your  father  told  me ;  and  at 
one  time  he  thought  he  was  very  '  warm,'  as  children  say, 
but  he  suddenly  seemed  to  lose  all  interest  in  it,  and  gave 
over  the  hunt  all  at  once." 

"Why?"  asked  Tom,  eagerly. 

"  I  don't  know  why,"  answered  Mrs.  Paulding ;  "  nor  did 
your  father  know,  either." 

"  How  did  my  great-grandfather  lose  the  money  ? "  Tom 
continued. 

"  It  was  stolen  from  him,"  replied  his  mother.  "  He  was 
a  paymaster  in  Washington's  army ;  and  when  the  British 
captured  New  York,  the  American  army  retreated  up  the 
island  and  held  the  upper  part.  A  large  sum  of  money  had 
been  paid  to  your  great-grandfather — or  rather  he  had  raised 
it  on  his  own  property,  for  I  believe  that  the  stolen  gold  was 
his  own  and  not  the  government's." 

"And  when  was  it  stolen?"  asked  Tom. 


AT    THE   BREAKFAST-TABLE.  45 

"  I  think  I  heard  your  father  say  that  it  was  taken  from 
his  grandfather  during  the  night — during  the  night  before 
the  battle  of  Harlem  Plains." 

"That  was  in  1776,"  said  Tom,  "in  September.  Our 
teacher  told  us  all  about  it  only  two  or  three  weeks  ago. 
And  it  was  fought  just  around  the  corner  from  here,  between 
Morningside  Park  and  Central  Park.  Was  Nicholas  Pauld- 
ing robbed  during  the  fight  ? " 

"  Really,  my  son,"  responded  Mrs.  Paulding,  "  I  know  very 
little  about  it.  Your  father  rarely  spoke  of  it ;  it  seemed  to 
be  a  sore  subject  with  him.  But  I  think  the  robbery  took 
place  late  that  evening,  after  the  battle  was  over, —  or  it  may 
have  been  the  night  before." 

"Who  was  the  robber?"  asked  Tom.  "They  know  who 
he  was,  don't  they  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  his  mother,  "  I  think  it  is  known  who  took  the 
money.  He  was  a  deserter  from  our  army.  His  name  was 
Kerr,  or  Carr.  He  disappeared  and  the  money  was  missing 
at  the  same  time." 

"  Did  n't  you  say  once  that  the  thief  was  never  heard  of 
after  the  stealing  ? "  said  Tom. 

"  That  is  what  I  have  always  understood,"  his  mother  de- 
clared. "  The  man  left  our  army  and  was  never  seen  again. 
After  the  war  your  grandfather  made  a  carefid  search  for 
him,  but  he  could  find  no  trace." 

"  Did  n't  the  British  receive  him  when  he  ran  away  ?  I 
thought  the  armies  in  that  war  were  always  glad  to  receive 
deserters  from  the  other  side." 


40  TOM   PAULDING. 

"  I  think  he  never  reached  the  British  at  all." 

"  Then  what  did  become  of  him  ? "  asked  Tom. 

"  That  is  the  mystery,"  replied  his  mother.  "  It  was  a 
mystery  to  your  great-grandfather  at  the  time  and  when  the 
war  was  over ;  and  it  seems  to  have  puzzled  and  interested 
your  grandfather,  too,  at  least  for  a  while." 

"  It  interests  me,"  Tom  declared.  "  I  like  puzzles.  I  wish 
I  knew  more  about  this  one." 

"  There  are  a  lot  of  papers  of  your  grandfather's,  maps 
and  letters  and  scraps  of  old  newspapers,  somewhere  in  an 
old  box  where  your  grandfather  put  them  more  than  fifty 
years  ago,"  said  Mrs.  Paulding. 

"And  where  is  that  box  now?"  was  Tom's  eager  question. 

"  I  think  that  it  is  in  one  of  the  old  trunks  in  the  attic," 
Mrs.  Paulding  replied. 

Before  Tom  could  say  anything  more,  a  shrill  whistle  was 
heard. 

"  There 's  the  postman  !  "  cried  Pauline,  jumping  up  from 
the  breakfast-table.  "I  hope  he  has  brought  a  letter  for 
me ! " 

The  Careful  Katie  entered  and  gave  Mrs.  Paulding  a  let- 
ter, saying,  "It  's  a  new  letter-man,  this  one,  and  he  says 
he  ought  to  have  left  this  letter  yesterday.  More  fool  he, 
say  I." 

With  that  she  took  the  coffee-pot  from  the  table  and  went 
out  of  the  room  again. 

Mrs.  Paulding  looked  at  the  handwriting  for  a  moment 
and  said,  "  It  is  from  Mr.  Duncan."     Then  she  opened  it  and 


AT   THE   BREAKFAST-TABLE.  47 

glanced  at  the  signature  and  exclaimed,  "  Yes,  it  is  from  Mr. 
Duncan.     I  wonder  what  he  has  to  say." 

Tom  knew  that  Mr.  Duncan  was  a  lawyer,  and  an  old 
friend  of  the  family,  and  that  he  had  always  advised  Mrs. 
Paulding  in  business  affairs.  As  his  mother  read,  Tom 
watched  her  face.  When  she  had  finished  the  letter  she  let 
it  fall  in  her  lap. 

"Well,  mother,"  he  asked,  "have  you  received  bad  news?" 

"Yes,"  she  answered,  "bad  news  indeed.  Mr.  Duncan 
writes  that  the  gentleman  who  holds  the  mortgage  on  the 
house  wishes  us  to  pay  it  off  soon,  and  Mr.  Duncan  is  afraid 
that  we  shall  not  be  able  to  get  as  much  from  anybody  else." 

"  Well,  suppose  we  don't  ? "  Tom  inquired. 

"  Then  we  shall  have  to  sell  this  house  and  move  away," 
said  Mrs.  Paulding;  and  she  sank  back  in  the  chair,  and 
with  difficulty  kept  back  her  tears. 

Pauline,  who  had  been  a  silent  spectator,  walked  over  and 
put  her  arms  about  her  mother.  "  How  soon  shall  we  have 
to  go  ? "  she  asked. 

"  I  hope  we  shall  not  have  to  go  at  all,"  Mrs.  Paulding 
answered.  "  Mr.  Duncan  says  that  we  have  several  months 
before  us  to  see  what  we  can  do.  Perhaps  the  mortgagee 
won't  want  his  money  before  that  time." 

"  Or  perhaps  Uncle  Dick  will  come  back  with  lots  and  lots 
of  money,"  suggested  Pauline. 

"Mother,"  said  Tom,  suddenly,  while  he  strapped  up  his 
school-books,  "  would  you  let  me  look  at  that  box  of  papers 
—  about  that  stolen  gold?" 


48  TOM   PAULDING. 

"  Certainly,  my  son,  if  you  would  like  to  see  them,"  she 
answered. 

"How  much  money  was  it  that  my  great-grandfather 
lost?"  he  asked. 

"I  don't  know  exactly.  I  think  I  once  told  you  as  much 
as  the  thief  could  carry  comfortably — about  two  thousand 
pounds,  perhaps." 

"  Whew  !  That 's  ten  thousand  dollars  !  "  exclaimed  Tom, 
as  he  bade  her  good-by  before  going  to  school.  "  Don't 
worry  about  that  mortgage.  I  lm  going  to  see  if  we  can't 
get  back  some  of  that  stolen  money.  Nobody  knows  where 
it  is,  and  I  may  be  lucky  enough  to  find  out.  At  any  rate,  I 
mean  to  try." 


2    M   GOING  TO    SEE   IF    WE   CAN  T   GET    BACK   SOME   OF   THAT   STuLdN 
MONEY,'    SAID   TOM." 


CHAPTER  VI. 


THE    BOX    OF    PAPERS. 


OWEVER  much  men  may  differ  in  the 
five  quarters  of  the  globe,  boys  are  alike 
the  world  over.  Wherever  they  may  be 
born,  and  whatever  be  their  bringing  up, 
the  quality  of  boyishness  is  sure  to  be 
in  all  of  them.  When  the  little  cock- 
ney lad  in  the  dark  lanes  of  London  hears  the  sound  of 
Bow  Pells,  he  cannot  help  sometimes  putting  himself  in  the 
place  of  Whittington,  and,  by  sheer  force  of  make-believe, 
succeeds  in  owning  a  cat,  and  in  disposing  of  it  for  a  high 
price  to  the  Barbary  king.  No  doubt  the  little  Arab  of  Bag- 
dad plays  at  Haroun  al  Raschid,  and  makes  up  out  of  his 
own  head  a  tale  of  which  he  is  the  hero — one  that  in  unex- 
pectedness of  adventure  and  in  variety  of  incident  far  sur- 
passes any  told  by  the  fair  Scheherazade  to  the  cruel  Sultan 
in  the  watches  of  the  "  Thousand  and  One  Nights." 

So  it  is  no  wonder  that  the  boys  of  America  delight  in  be- 
ing Indians.  The  condition  of  the  streets  and  parks  near 
the  house  where  Tom  Paulding  lived  was  very  well  adapted 


52  TOM   PAULDING. 

for  redskin  raids,  sudden  ambushes,  and  long  scouts  after  a 
retreating  tribe  of  hostiles.  Rarely  a  week  passed  that  the 
Black  Band  did  not  go  upon  the  war-path.  And  it  was 
therefore  with  no  surprise  that  Tom  was  called  upon  by  Cissy 
Smith  and  Corkscrew  Lott,  the  next  Saturday  morning,  and 
was  by  them  bidden  to  hurry  over  to  Morningside  Park  as 
soon  after  dinner  as  he  could. 

Tom  was  kept  busy  at  school  during  all  the  week ;  and 
Saturday  was  the  only  day  when  he  really  had  any  time  to 
himself.  In  the  morning  he  had  usually  a  few  errands  to 
run  for  his  mother  and  a  few  chores  to  do  about  the  house. 
The  afternoon  was  always  his  own. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  to-day?"  asked  Tom. 

"  We  've  got  a  mighty  good  idea,"  Cissy  replied.  "  We  are 
going  over  to  Morningside  to  play  the  '  Death  of  Custer  in 
the  Lava  Beds.' " 

" That  is  a  good  scheme,"  Tom  said.     "  Whose  was  it?" 

"Harry  Zachary  suggested  it,"  answered  Smith.  "He 
said  that,  if  we  did,  we  could  have  a  bully  massacree,  and 
that  we  could  pretend  to  kill  them  all  off  one  by  one." 

"Harry  has  first-rate  notions  about  a  good  fight,"  Tom 
declared.     "  I  'd  like  to  join  in,  but  I  can't." 

"Why  not?"  asked  Corkscrew. 

"  Well,"  said  Tom,  with  a  sense  of  the  importance  of  the 
disclosure  he  was  about  to  make,  "  I  have  some  business  to 
attend  to.  You  remember  that  stolen  gold  I  said  belonged 
to  us  if  we  could  only  find  it  ? " 

"Yes,"  Cissy  replied. 


THE   BOX   OF   PAPERS.  53 

"  Have  you  found  out  where  it  is  ? "  asked  Lott,  eagerly. 

"  No,"  Tom  answered ;  "  at  least  not  yet.  But  my  mother 
has  given  me  all  the  papers — a  whole  box  full  of  them  —  and 
I  'm  going  over  them  this  afternoon." 

"  Shucks  !  "  said  Cissy,  scornfully.  "  If  you  don't  know 
where  the  gold  is,  what 's  the  use  of  looking  for  it  ? " 

"  I  hope  to  find  a  clue — that 's  what  the  detectives  call  it, 
is  n't  it  ? "  Tom  responded. 

"All  the  clues  you  find,"  returned  Cissy,  "you  can  clue 
yourself  up  with !  You  had  better  come  over  to  Morning- 
side,  instead  of  staying  at  home  looking  at  old  papers." 

"  What  sort  of  papers  are  they  ? "  inquired  Lott.  "  News- 
papers f " 

"  All  sorts,"  Tom  replied ;  "  newspapers  and  old  letters 
and  reports ;  lots  and  lots  of  them.  I  have  n't  sorted  them 
out  yet,  but  they  seem  to  be  very  interesting." 

"Would  you  like  me  to  come  around  and  help  you?" 
asked  Lott. 

"  No,"  responded  Tom,  "  I  am  going  to  find  that  gold  my- 
self, if  it 's  to  be  found  at  all." 

"  I  don't  believe  it 's  to  be  found  at  all,"  said  Cissy.  "  I 
don't  believe  there  ever  was  any  to  be  found  anywhere.  This 
is  just  a  sort  of  ghost-story  they  are  fooling  you  with.  I  '11 
tell  you  what  you  had  better  do.  You  come  over  with  us 
this  afternoon,  and  we  '11  let  you  be  Custer." 

This  was  a  temptation  to  Tom,  end  for  a  moment  he 
wavered. 

"  We  'd  let  you  be  the  Indian  Chief,  Rain-in-the-Face," 


54  TOM   PAULDING. 

Cissy  went  on,  noticing  Tom's  hesitation,  "  but  Harry  said, 
as  he  'd  suggested  it,  he  thought  he  ought  to  be  the  Indian 
chief  and  lead  in  the  scalping.  But  you  can  be  Custer,  if 
you  '11  come." 

"  1 'd  like  to,"  answered  Tom,  who  had  made  up  his  mind 
now,  "  but  I  can't.  I  'm  going  over  these  papers  this  after- 
noon." 

"  If  you  find  out  anything,  will  you  tell  me  ? "  Lott  inquired. 

"I  '11  see,"  was  Tom's  response. 

"  He  '11  tell  you  all  he  finds  out,"  declared  Cissy,  as  he  rolled 
away,  "  and  so  could  I — for  he  won't  find  out  anything.  As 
I  said  before,  I  don't  believe  there  's  anything  to  find  out." 

This  discouraging  remark  was  intended  for  Tom's  ear,  and 
it  had  its  due  effect.  Tom  had  a  great  respect  for  Cissy 
Smith's  judgment.  For  a  few  seconds  he  wondered  whether 
it  was  really  worth  while  to  give  up  a  beautiful  day  just  to 
turn  over  a  lot  of  dusty  old  papers  in  the  wild  hope  of  find- 
ing something  which  the  owner  of  the  papers  had  ceased  to 
seek  long  before  he  died. 

But  he  had  made  his  choice  and  he  stuck  to  it.  After  the 
midday  dinner  of  the  family,  Tom's  resolve  was  fixed  as  if  it 
had  never  faltered.  His  mother  had  given  him  permission 
to  take  the  box  of  papers  from  a  trunk  in  the  attic  where  it 
had  been  ever  since  the  death  of  Nicholas  Paulding;  and 
early  in  the  morning  he  had  gone  up  and  opened  the  trunk 
and  lifted  out  the  box.  As  soon  as  he  had  finished  his  din- 
ner, he  went  upstairs  to  his  own  room  and  locked  his  door. 
Then  he  emptied  out  upon  his  bed  all  the  papers  in  the  box. 


THE   BOX   OF   PAPERS.  55 

The  tumbled  heap  was  about  a  foot  high,  aud  it  contained 
one  hundred  and  twenty-seven  separate  pieces.  There  were 
letters  of  his  great-grandfather's.  There  were  letters  from 
and  to  his  grandfather.  There  were  copies  of  official  docu- 
ments. There  were  newspapers,  and  there  were  single 
articles  cut  from  newspapers.  There  were  old  maps,  marked 
over  with  notes  in  Wyllys  Paulding's  handwriting.  There 
was  a  pamphlet  printed  in  London  in  1116,  and  giving  a  full 
and  detailed  account  of  the  taking  of  New  York  by  His 
Majesty's  Forces.  There  were  several  old  magazines  with 
descriptions  of  the  events  which  preceded  and  followed  the 
battle  of  Harlem  Heights.  This  pamphlet  and  these  maga- 
zines contained  notes  in  red  ink  by  the  hand  of  Wyllys 
Paulding.  Most  important  of  all  was  a  statement,  addressed 
in  the  handwriting  of  Tom's  great-grandfather,  in  which 
Nicholas  told  his  son  the  whole  story  of  the  stolen  guineas. 

Tom  wondered  why  it  was  that  his  grandfather,  having 
taken  so  much  interest  in  the  search  for  the  stolen  gold, 
should  have  abandoned  it  suddenly.  This  wonder,  strong  in 
the  beginning,  kept  coming  back  again  and  again  as  Tom 
pursued  his  quest ;  and  it  grew  stronger  with  every  return. 
A  day  was  to  come  when  Tom  would  understand  why  his 
grandfather  had  so  suddenly  given  up  the  search.  For  the 
time,  and  for  a  long  while  afterward,  Tom  could  see  no 
reason  for  this  strange  action. 

With  the  aid  of  the  statement  Nicholas  Paulding  had 
written  for  Wyllys  Paulding,  the  grandson  of  the  latter  was 
able  to  learn  the  exact  circumstances  under  which  the  money 


5G  TOM   PAULDING. 

had  disappeared.  Tom  had  to  puzzle  out  and  piece  together, 
but  at  last  he  got  at  all  the  facts  so  far  as  it  was  possible  to 
discover  them. 

Here,  then,  is  an  orderly  account  of  events  from  the  time 
the  treasure  came  into  the  possession  of  Nicholas  Paulding 
to  the  hour  of  its  disappearance  and  the  disappearance  of 
the  man  who  had  stolen  it : 

When  General  Washington  had  his  headquarters  in  New 
York,  after  the  battle  of  Long  Island,  Nicholas  Paulding 
mortgaged  his  houses  and  lots  near  the  Battery  for  the  large 
sum  of  two  thousand  guineas.  He  had  great  difficulty  in 
getting  any  one  to  lend  him  the  money.  In  those  troublous 
times,  when  none  knew  what  might  be  the  future  of  the 
colonies,  few  men  were  willing  to  part  with  the  gold  in  their 
possession.  At  last,  however,  Nicholas  Paulding  found  a 
man  willing  to  let  him  have  the  money  on  his  bond  and 
mortgage.  This  man  was  a  newly  arrived  German,  and  his 
name  was  Horwitz  —  Simon  Horwitz.  He  was  very  particu- 
lar about  the  form  of  the  papers;  and  even  after  all  the 
papers  had  been  drawn  up  to  his  complete  satisfaction,  he 
delayed  the  payment  of  the  money.  It  was  not  until  Satur- 
day, September  14,  1776,  when  the  Continental  army  was 
leaving  New  York,  and  when  the  patriots  were  nocking  out 
of  the  city,  knowing  that  the  British  might  take  possession 
at  any  hour — it  was  not  until  then  that  Simon  Horwitz 
finally  accepted  the  bond  and  mortgage  of  Nicholas  Pauld- 
ing and  paid  over  the  two  thousand  guineas. 

Nicholas  Paulding  was  a  very  young  man,  barely  of  age. 


THE   BOX   OF   PAPERS.  59 

He  had  been  at  King's  College  (as  Columbia  College  was 
then  called)  with  Alexander  Hamilton,  and  he  was  scarcely 
second  to  that  great  man  in  devotion  to  the  cause  of  his 
country.  He  had  early  enrolled  himself  in  Washington's 
army,  and  he  had  been  chosen  to  act  as  paymaster  of  a  New 
York  regiment.  The  post  was  honorable  but  laborious,  for 
the  soldiers  would  expect  their  pay  regularly  and  there  was 
little  money  in  the  treasury.  It  was  as  his  contribution  to 
the  cost  of  the  straggle  for  liberty  that  Nicholas  Paulding 
had  borrowed  two  thousand  guineas  on  the  security  of  his 
homestead.  He  intended  to  devote  the  money  to  the  pay- 
ment of  the  men  in  his  regiment  as  there  might  be  need. 

As  soon  as  he  had  counted  the  coins  received  from  Simon 
Horwitz,  Nicholas  Paulding  tied  them  up  in  foiu"  canvas 
bags,  sealing  the  knots  with  wax,  on  which  he  impressed  his 
seal.  Then  he  concealed  these  bags  about  his  person  as  best 
he  could.  He  was  a  stalwart  man,  of  full  stature  and  un- 
usual strength  for  his  years,  but  the  weight  of  these  bags 
must  have  been  an  inconvenient  burden.  Two  thousand 
guineas  would  be  worth  more  than  ten  thousand  dollars ; 
they  would  be  in  bulk  a  little  more  than  a  thousand  solid 
eagles ;  and  they  would  weigh  not  far  from  forty  pounds. 

Early  on  the  morning  of  Sunday,  September  15,  the  day 
after  Nicholas  Paulding  had  received  his  money,  three  British 
men-of-war  sailed  boldly  by  the  Battery  and  entered  the  Hud- 
son River.  Every  one  knew  then  that  the  city  was  doomed 
to  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  King's  forces  in  a  few  hours. 
The  American  troops  made  ready  to  retreat,  and  there  were 


60  TOM    PAULDING. 

none  to  oppose  the  landing  of  the  British  soldiers  as  they 
crossed  from  Long  Island  under  cover  of  the  fire  of  the  fleet, 
Nicholas  Paulding  was  with  some  men  who  made  a  stand 
against  a  regiment  of  Hessians  in  the  fields  across  which  ran 
the  Boston  Road  (near  what  is  now  the  corner  of  Third 
Avenue  and  Twenty- third  Street).  Then  the  Americans  fell 
back  and  joined  the  main  body  of  the  Continental  army  re- 
tiring on  Harlem  Heights.  The  rain  poured  in  torrents,  and 
there  sprang  up  a  chill  wind.  The  men  of  Paulding's  regi- 
ment were  footsore  from  their  long  march  when  they  halted 
for  the  night  a  little  above  Bloomingdale,  and  not  far  from 
the  eight-mile  stone. 

They  found  small  comfort  in  their  hasty  camp,  a  smoky 
fire  of  damp  wood,  what  food  they  had  with  them  and  no 
more, — >iio  tents  and  no  blankets.  Upon  the  sodden  earth 
they  laid  them  down  to  sleep ;  and  despite  the  raging  of  the 
storm,  most  of  them  were  so  tired  that  they  slept  soundly. 

With  his  fellow-officers,  Nicholas  Paulding  had  done  his 
share  in  seeing  to  the  safety  and  the  comfort  of  his  men. 
After  the  sentries  were  placed,  he  joined  his  companions  in 
consultation  as  to  the  work  for  the  next  day.  Then  he  went 
to  the  place  set  apart  for  him,  before  a  smoking  fire  beaten 
by  the  pelting  rain ;  and  there  he  lay  down  to  sleep,  if  he 
could.  A  man  named  Jeffrey  Kerr  had  been  serving  as  pay- 
master's clerk,  and  to  this  fellow  Nicholas  Paulding  had  con- 
fided the  fact  that  he  had  two  thousand  guineas  concealed 
about  his  person.  This  Kerr  was  lying  before  the  camp-fire, 
apparently  asleep,  when  Nicholas  Paulding  settled  himself 


THE   BOX   OF   PAPERS.  61 

for  the  night ;  the  clerk  was  wrapped  in  a  huge,  loose  surtout 
with  enormous  pockets. 

How  long  Nicholas  Paulding  slept  he  did  not  know,  but 
he  remembered  a  faint  dream  of  a  capture  by  brigands  who 
felt  about  his  body  and  robbed  him  of  his  treasure.  When 
he  slowly  awakened,  he  was  being  turned  from  his  side  over 
to  his  back,  and  some  one  was  loosening  the  belt  which  sus- 
tained the  bags  of  guineas.  The  night  was  blacker  than  ever, 
and  the  rain  was  pouring  down  in  sheets.  Still  almost  asleep, 
he  resisted  drowsily  and  gripped  the  belt  with  his  hands. 
When  the  belt  was  pulled  from  his  grasp,  he  awoke  and 
sprang  to  his  feet.  In  the  black  darkness  before  him  he  could 
see  nothing ;  but  his  hand,  extended  at  a  venture,  clasped  a 
rough  coat. 

Then  there  came  a  dazzling  flash  of  lightning,  and  Nicholas 
Paulding  found  himself  face  to  face  with  the  man  Kerr,  who 
had  hold  of  the  belt  and  the  four  pendent  bags  of  treasure. 
The  two  men  were  almost  in  the  center  of  the  storm ;  the 
lightning  had  struck  a  tree  between  them  and  the  British 
troops;  but  before  the  clap  of  thunder  followed  the  flash, 
Jeffrey  Kerr  smote  the  man  he  was  trying  to  rob  and  forced 
him  to  let  go  the  coat.  Wli ether  Kerr  had  seized  a  limb  of  a 
tree  lying  there  ready  for  the  fire,  or  whether  he  had  used  as 
a  weapon  the  belt  itself  with  the  treasure-bags  attached,  the 
robbed  man  never  knew. 

Nicholas  Paulding  was  stunned  for  a  moment,  but  he  soon 
recovered  and  gave  the  alarm.  As  the  thief  passed  the  sentry 
he  was  fired  at,  but  in  the  dense  darkness  the  shot  went  wide 


G2  TOM   PAULDING. 

of  its  mark,  and  Kerr  rushed  on  through  the  lines  of  the 
American  army. 

He  was  familiar  with  the  region.  He  had  been  a  clerk 
with  Colonel  Morris  at  the  Red  Mill,  and  knew  every  foot  of 
that  part  of  Manhattan  Island.  It  was  well  for  him  that  he 
did,  else  he  never  could  have  escaped  from  his  pursuers,  in 
spite  of  the  blackness  of  the  night.  He  was  within  thirty 
yards  of  a  second  sentry  when  another  flash  of  lightning 
revealed  him  again. 

The  soldier  fired  at  once.  There  was  a  slight  cry  of  pain  ; 
but  the  man  could  not  have  been  wounded  severely,  since 
Nicholas  Paulding,  with  a  company  of  the  men  of  his  regi- 
ment, carefully  examined  the  ground  where  Kerr  had  stood 
at  the  moment  of  filing,  and  thence  down  a  hundred  yards 
or  so,  to  a  little  brook,  which  divided  the  lines  of  the  Ameri- 
cans from  the  British,  and  across  which  it  was  not  safe  to 
venture,  even  if  the  rain-storm  had  not  so  swollen  the  stream 
as  to  make  a  crossing  dangerous  in  the  darkness. 

And  after  that  hour  Nicholas  Paulding  had  no  news  of  his 
treasure,  and  no  man  ever  laid  eyes  on  Jeffrey  Ken*. 

The  morning  following  the  robbery,  there  was  fought  the 
Battle  of  Harlem  Heights,  which  was  a  decided  victory  for 
the  Continental  army. 

Encouraged  greatly  by  the  result  of  this  fight,  the  Ameri- 
can forces  lay  intrenched  on  Harlem  Heights  for  three  weeks, 
facing  the  British  troops,  separated  from  them  by  barely 
three  hundred  yards,  the  width  of  the  little  valley  of  Manhat- 
tanville.     During  these  three  weeks,  Nicholas  Paulding  made 


THE   BOX   OF   PAPERS.  03 

every  possible  search  for  the  man  who  had  robbed  him,  but 
without  learning'  anything.  From  prisoners  taken  during 
the  Battle  of  Harlem  Heights  he  inquired  whether  any  de- 
serter had  been  received  in  the  British  lines  on  the  night  of 
September  15,  but  he  could  hear  of  none. 

A  month  later  most  of  Washington's  army  was  marched 
away  from  Manhattan  Island,  to  do  its  part  in  the  long  and 
bloody  struggle  of  the  Revolution. 

For  seven  years  Nicholas  Paulding  did  not  set  foot  in  the 
city  of  New  York,  which  was  held  for  George  III.  until  the 
close  of  the  war. 

When  the  cause  of  the  patriots  had  triumphed,  and  the 
British  troops  had  departed,  Nicholas  Paulding  seems  to  have 
made  but  few  inquiries  after  his  stolen  guineas.  Apparently, 
in  the  wanderings  and  hardships  of  the  Continental  army, 
he  had  made  up  his  mind  that  the  money  was  gone  and  that 
any  further  effort  was  useless.  Besides,  he  did  not  feel  any 
pressing  need  of  it,  as  he  made  money  after  the  war  was 
over,  being  able  to  buy  lands  and  to  build  the  house  where 
his  descendants  were  to  live  during  the  most  of  the  next 
century. 

But  early  in  this  century,  when  Wyllys,  Nicholas  Paulding's 
only  son  and  Tom's  grandfather,  was  nearing  manhood,  the 
tide  of  fortune  turned  and  several  successive  investments 
were  most  unfortunate.  Long  before  the  War  of  1812  the 
lost  two  thousand  guineas  would  have  been  very  welcome 
again.  Even  then  Nicholas  Paulding  seemed  to  take  little 
interest  in  the  quest — at  least  all  the  correspondence  was 


U4  TOM   PAULDING. 

carried  on  by  Wyllys.  The  statement  of  the  circumstances 
of  the  robbery  written  by  Nicholas  bore  an  indorsement  that 
it  was  drawn  up  "  at  the  Special  Request  of  my  Son,  Wyllys 
Paulding",  Esq." 

The  first  thing  Wyllys  Paulding  tried  to  do  was  to  hunt 
down  Jeffrey  Kerr ;  but  he  had  no  better  luck  than  his  father. 
Tom  found  among  the  papers  two  letters  which  showed  how 
carefully  Wyllys  had  conducted  the  search.  One  was  from 
the  British  officer  who  had  commanded  the  King's  troops  en- 
camped opposite  the  regiment  in  which  Nicholas  Paulding 
served  on  the  night  of  Sunday,  September  15,  1776.  This 
letter  was  dated  London,  October  10,  1810 ;  and  in  it  the 
British  officer  declared  that  he  remembered  distinctly  the 
night  before  the  Battle  of  Harlem  Heights,  and  that  he  was 
certain  that  if  a  deserter  had  entered  their  lines  that  night  he 
would  surely  recall  it ;  but  he  had  no  such  recollection ;  and 
on  looking  in  the  journal  which  he  had  kept  all  through  the 
war,  from  his  landing  in  New  York  to  the  surrender  at  Sara- 
toga, he  found  no  account  there  of  any  deserter  having  come 
in  on  the  night  in  question ;  and  he  felt  certain,  therefore, 
that  Kerr  had  not  been  received  by  liis  Majesty's  forces.  This 
letter  was  indorsed,  in  Wyllys's  handwriting  : 

"  A  Courteous  Epistle :  the  Writer,  having  survived  the 
seven  years  of  the  Revolution  and  the  Continental  Wars  of 
Buonaparte,  was  killed  at  the  Battle  of  New  Orleans." 

The  second  of  these  letters  was  from  a  clergyman  at  New 
London,  evidently  a  very  old  man,  judging  by  the  shaky 
handwriting.     It  was  dated  February  22,  1811.     The  writer 


THE   BOX   OF   PAPERS.  G5 

declared  that  lie  had  known  Jeffrey  Kerr  as  a  boy  in  New 
London,  where  he  was  born,  and  that  even  as  a  boy  Kerr 
was  not  trusted.  His  fellow-townsmen  had  been  greatly  sur- 
prised when  they  heard  in  177G  that  he  was  appointed  pay- 
master's clerk,  and  they  had  remarked  then  that  it  was  just 
the  position  he  would  have  chosen  for  himself.  The  news  of 
his  robbery  of  his  superior  and  of  his  flight  had  caused  no 
wonder;  it  was  exactly  what  was  expected.  Kerr  had  not 
been  seen  by  any  of  his  townsmen  since  he  had  left  New 
London  to  join  the  army,  and  nothing  had  ever  been  heard 
of  him.  There  was  a  general  belief  that  he  was  dead ;  and 
this  ripened  into  certainty  when  the  wife  he  had  left  behind 
him  inherited  a  fortune  and  he  never  came  back  to  share  it 
with  her.  The  wife  was  firmly  convinced  that  she  was  a 
widow ;  and  so,  in  1787,  she  had  married  again. 

Upon  this  letter  Wyllys  Paulding  had  indorsed,  "  Can  the 
man  have  been  shot  the  night  he  stole  the  money  ?  We  know 
he  did  not  reach  the  British  lines,  and  now  we  are  told  that 
he  never  returned  home,  though  he  had  every  reason  to  do 
so.     Well,  if  he  be  dead,  where  is  our  money  ? " 

Among  the  other  papers  were  cuttings  from  Rivington's 
New  York  Gazetteer  or  the  Connecticut,  New  Jersey,  Hudson's 
River  and  Quebec  Weekly  Advertiser;  a  folded  sheet  of  paper 
on  which  was  written  "Notes  of  Horwitz's  confession,  Dec. 
13,  1811,"  but  which  was  blank  on  the  other  side  (nor  could 
Tom  find  any  writing  that  might  seem  to  belong  within  the 
cover  of  this  paper) ;  a  letter  from  a  fellow-officer  of  Nicholas 
Paulding's  who  was  with  him  on  the  night  of  the  robbery  and 


GO  TOM   PAULDING. 

who  set  forth  the  circumstances  very  much  as  Nicholas  him- 
self had  already  recorded  them ;  and,  most  important  of  all, 
a  rough  outline  map  of  the  positions  of  the  American  and 
British  troops  on  the  night  of  September  15,  1776.  This 
map  had  been  sketched  from  memory  by  Nicholas  Paulding, 
whose  name  it  bore,  with  the  date  January,  1810. 

On  this  map  Nicholas  had  marked  in  red  ink  his  own 
position  when  he  was  robbed,  and  the  positions  of  the  two 
sentries  who  had  fired  at  Jeffrey  as  the  thief  fled  in  the  dark- 
ness. 

There  were  many  other  papers  in  the  box  besides  those 
here  mentioned,  but  the  most  of  them  did  not  seem  to  have 
anything  to  do  with  the  stolen  money. 

There  were  not  a  few  letters  in  answer  to  inquiries  about 
Jeffrey  Kerr;  there  were  many  newspapers  and  cuttings 
from  newspapers  ;  and  there  were  all  sorts  of  odds  and  ends, 
memoranda,  and  stray  notes — such,  for  instance,  as  a  calcu- 
lation of  the  exact  weight  of  two  thousand  guineas. 

Tom  went  through  them  all,  laying  aside  those  which 
seemed  to  contain  anything  of  importance.  When  he  had 
examined  every  paper  in  the  heap  on  his  bed,  he  had  two 
piles  of  documents  before  him  :  one  was  large  and  contained 
the  less  important  papers  and  newspapers;  the  other  was 
smaller,  as  it  held  only  those  of  real  importance. 

Tom  took  the  papers  in  the  smaller  heap  and  set  out  to 
arrange  them  in  order  by  their  dates. 

When  this  was  done  he  made  a  curious  discovery.  They 
were  all  the  work  of  little  more  than  two  years. 


THE   BOX   OF   PAPERS.  (57 

Wyllys  Paulding  seemed  to  have  started  out  to  search  late 
in  1809 — and  there  was  no  document  of  any  kind  bearing 
date  in  1812.  Although  he  had  not  found  what  he  was  seek- 
ing and  what  he  had  sought  most  diligently  at  least  for  two 
years,  it  seemed  as  if  he  had  suddenly  tired  and  desisted  from 
his  quest. 

So  it  was  when  Tom  Paulding  went  to  bed  that  night  he 
had  three  questions  to  which  he  could  find  no  answers : 

I.  What  became  of  Jeffrey  Kerr  ? 

II.  If  Kerr  was  killed,  what  became  of  the  two  thousand 
guineas  ? 

III.  Why  did  Wyllys  Paulding  suddenly  abandon  all  effort 
to  find  the  stolen  money  ? 


CHAPTER  VII. 

CAKES  AND  A   COMPOSITION. 

EVERAL  successive  Saturday  afternoons 
Tom  Paulding  devoted  to  the  box  of  old 
papers,  carefully  going  over  every  letter 
twice  or  thrice,  that  he  might  make  sure 
V  ^ijR'<£?  0f  its  full  meaning  and  of  its  exact  bear- 
ing  on  the  problems  to  be  solved.  With 
like  industry  he  read  through  the  old  newspapers  and  the 
cuttings  therefrom  which  made  up  more  than  half  the  con- 
tents of  the  box.  In  these  newspapers  Tom  found  nothing 
relating  to  his  investigation ;  but  he  discovered  much  in 
them  that  was  amusing ;  and  the  glimpse  of  old  New  York 
they  gave  seemed  to  him  so  strange  that  Tom  began  to  take 
interest  in  the  early  history  of  his  native  city.  The  more 
thoroughly  he  came  to  know  the  annals  of  New  York,  the 
prouder  he  was  that  he  and  his  had  been  New-Yorkers  for 
five  generations  at  least. 

One  Saturday  morning,  early  in  December,  about  a  month 
after  Mrs.  Paulding  had  given  her  son  permission  to  take 
the  box  of  old  papers,  Tom  was  going  out  to  get  his  mother 
the  ingredients  for  a  batch  of  cakes  she  had  to  bake  for  a 


CAKES   AND   A   COMPOSITION.  09 

customer.  Mrs.  Paulding  was  fond  of  cooking,  and  she 
made  delicious  broths  and  jellies;  but  her  special  gift  was 
for  baking  cake.  When  the  New  York  Exchange  for 
Woman's  Work  was  opened,  Mrs.  Paulding  sent  to  it  for  sale 
a  Washington  pie,  made  after  a  receipt  which  had  been  a 
tradition  in  the  family,  even  before  the  days  of  Mrs.  Nicholas 
Paulding,  Tom's  great-grandmother.  The  purchaser  of  this 
delicacy  was  so  delighted  with  it  that  she  went  again  to  the 
exchange  and  asked  for  another.  So  in  time  it  came  about 
that  Mrs.  Paulding  was  one  of  the  ladies  who  eke  out  a  slen- 
der income  by  making  soups,  jellies,  and  cakes  to  order  for 
the  customers  of  this  Woman's  Exchange. 

In  this  pleasant  labor  Tom  and  Pauline  were  always 
anxious  to  aid.  Polly  had  much  of  her  mother's  lightness  of 
touch,  and  was  already  well  skilled  as  a  maker  of  what  she 
chose  to  call  "  seedaway  cake," — because  it  was  thus  that  she 
first  had  tried  to  name  a  cake  flavored  with  caraway  seeds. 
Tom  had  no  liking  for  the  kitchen,  but  he  was  glad  to  do 
what  chores  he  could  and  to  run  all  his  mother's  errands. 
Besides,  Mrs.  Paulding,  with  motherly  forethought,  was  wont 
to  contrive  that  there  should  be  left  over,  now  and  again, 
small  balls  of  dough,  which  she  molded  in  little  tins  and 
baked  for  Tom  and  for  Polly.  These,  however,  were  acci- 
dental delights  to  which  they  looked  forward  whenever  their 
mother  had  a  lot  of  cakes  to  make. 

The  Careful  Katie  did  not  always  approve  of  Mrs.  Pauld- 
ing's invasion  of  her  kitchen  to  make  cake  for  others ;  but 
she  always  was  pleased  to  see  the  little  cakes  which  might  lie 


70  TOM   PAULDING. 

a-baking  in  a  corner  of  the  oven  as  a  treat  for  Tom  and  for 
PoHy. 

"  It 's  a  sweet  tooth  they  have,  both  o1  the  childer,"  she  said. 

Polly  had  just  called  to  her  brother,  "  Oh,  Tom,  don't  go 
out  till  you  have  given  me  that  'rithmetic  of  yours  !  " 

"  All  right,"  answered  her  brother. 

Just  then  Katie  left  the  room,  and  Polly  again  delayed 
Tom's  departure. 

"When  you  were  little,"  she  said,  "and  Katie  used  to  say 
you  had  a  sweet  tooth  in  your  head,  did  it  make  you  open 
your  mouth,  and  feel  your  teeth,  and  wonder  why  she  said 
you  had  only  one  ?  Because  I  did,  —  and  I  used  to  be  afraid 
that  perhaps  if  I  ate  too  much  cake  I  might  lose  my  sweet 
tooth  and  not  be  able  to  taste  it  any  more." 

"You  did  lose  all  that  set  of  sweet  teeth,  my  dear,"  re- 
marked Mrs.  Paulding,  smiling  at  Polly,  as  she  weighed  out 
the  powdered  sugar  for  her  frosting. 

"  But  I  've  got  a  new  set  of  them,"  Polly  replied,  "  and  I  'm 
sure  that  I  like  cake  now  more  than  ever." 

"  There  was  one  of  Katie's  sayings  that  used  to  worry  me," 
said  Tom ;  "  and  that  was  when  she  pretended  to  be  tired  of 
talking  to  us,  and  declared  that  she  would  n't  waste  her 
breath  on  us.  That  made  me  think  that  perhaps  we  had 
only  just  so  much  breath  each,  and  that  if  we  wasted  it  when 
we  were  young,  we  should  n't  have  any  left  when  we  were 
grown  up  —  " 

"  I  used  to  think  that  too,"  interrupted  Pauline. 

"And  I  thought  that  it  would  be  horrible.''  continued  her 


CAKES  AND   A   COMPOSITION.  71 

brother,  "  to  be  an  old  man,  and  not  be  able  to  speak.  So 
when  I  went  to  bed,  sometimes  I  used  to  save  my  breath, 
keeping  it  in  as  long  as  I  could." 

"  I  wish  I  'd  thought  of  that,"  Polly  declared.  "  But  I 
did  n't.  Now,  where  's  that  'rithmetic  ? "  she  added,  seeing 
that  her  brother  had  again  started  to  go. 

"  I  '11  get  it  for  you,"  Tom  answered.     "  It 's  in  my  room." 

In  a  minute  he  returned  with  the  book  in  his  hand. 

Across  the  cover  were  written  the  following  characters : 

~o\jl  iravXdivy'g  (3ooX' 

Polly  took  the  volume,  and,  seeing  this  strange  legend,  she 
asked  at  once,  "  What 's  that  ? " 

"  That  ? "  echoed  Tom.     "  Oh,  that 's  Greek." 

Mrs.  Paulding  looked  around  in  surprise. 

"  I  did  not  know  you  were  studying  Greek,"  she  said. 

"  I  'm  not,"  Tom  answered.  "  That  is  n't  really  Greek. 
It 's  just  my  name  in  Greek  letters — I  got  them  out  of  the 
end  of  the  dictionary,  you  know.  Besides,  I  did  that  years 
ago.     I  have  n't  used  that  book  since  I  was  eleven." 

Then  he  took  the  list  of  things  his  mother  wished  him  to 
get,  and  went  out. 

When  he  came  back,  Pauline  danced  out  to  meet  him, 
waving  a  paper  above  her  head  with  one  hand,  while  with 
the  other  she  kept  tight  hold  of  the  kitten  which  had  climbed 
to  her  shoulder. 

"  Guess  what  I  've  found  !  "  she  cried ;  "  aud  guess  where 
I  found  it !  " 


72 


TOM   PAULDING. 


Tom  went  into  the  dining-room  to  make  his  report  to  his 
mother.  Then  he  turned  to  Polly  and  said :  "  Well,  and  what 
did  you  find  ? " 

"I  found  this — in  your  'rithmetic,"  she  answered,  open- 
ing the  paper  and 
holding  it  before 
him.  "  It 's  one  of 
your  compositions, 
written  when  you 
were  younger  than 
I  am  now — when 
you  were  only  ten. 
It  's  about  money 
— and  Marmee  and 
I  don't  think  that 
^k  it  is  so  bad,  con- 
sidering how  very 
young  you  were 
/;  <m  when  you  wrote  it." 
Mrs.  Paulding 
smiled,  but  said 
nothing. 

"  Let  me  see  !  "  cried  Tom,  holding  out  his  hand. 
"  Will  you  promise  to  give  it  back?"  she  asked,  retreating 
behind  her  mother. 

"  It 's  mine,  is  n't  it  ? "  he  replied. 

"  But  I  want  to  keep  it.  I  would  like  to  show  it  to  our 
teacher  and  to  some  of  the  girls,  because  it  is  so  funny.     I 


GUESS    WHAT    I    VE    FOUND!       SHE   CRIED. 


CAKES  AND  A  COMPOSITION.  73 

can  tell  them  that  a  little  boy  wrote  it,  without  telling  who 
it  was.  It  was  a  good  subject  to  write  about,  I  think.  Just 
think  what  I  've  got  to  do  a  composition  on  next  week  !  On 
'  Loyalty ! '  What  can  I  write  about  Loyalty  ?  That 's  one 
of  those  head-in-the-air  words  I  never  have  anything  to  say 
about.  The  teachers  we  had  last  year  used  to  let  us  write 
descriptive  compositions.  I  wrote  one  on  'A  Walk  in  River- 
side Park/  and  I  told  all  about  the  little  girl's  tomb  with  the 
urn  on  it,  you  know.  And  we  kept  changing  teachers,  and 
I  handed  in  that  composition  three  times !  " 

"  O  Pauline  !  "  said  her  mother,  reproachfully. 

"Well,"  the  little  girl  explained,  "I  wrote  it  over  every 
time  and  made  it  longer  and  fixed  it  up  a  bit.  It 's  so  hard  to 
think  of  things  to  say  when  you  have  to  write  a  composition." 

"  Let  me  have  mine  now,"  said  Tom,  "  and  I  '11  give  it  back." 

"Honest?"  she  asked. 

"  Certain  sure,"  he  answered. 

"  Hands  across  your  heart  ? "  she  inquired,  holding  out  the 
paper. 

"  Never  see  the  back  of  my  neck  again,  if  I  don't !  "  declared 
Tom,  taking  it  from  her  hand  hastily. 

When  he  had  opened  it,  and  when  he  saw  the  irregular 
handwriting  and  the  defective  spelling,  he  blushed  slightly. 

"  I  wrote  this  when  I  was  a  boy,"  he  said,  apologetically. 

"What  are  you  now1?"  asked  his  mother,  as  she  glanced 
up  from  her  labors,  smiling. 

"  I  mean  a  little  boy,"  Tom  answered. 

This  is  the  composition  which  Tom  Paulding  had  written 

7 


74  TOM   PAULDING. 

when  he  was  "a  little  boy."  The  signature  and  the  date 
under  it  are  omitted,  but  the  latter  showed  that  Tom  was 
just  ten  years  and  three  months  old  when  he  composed  it : 

MONEY. 

I  Money  is  one  of  the  most  useful  things  in  the  world 

II  and  if  it  was  not  for  money  we  should  not  have 

III  half  the  comforts  and  emploments  which  we  have.     Money 

IV  is  a  great  thing  and  goes  a  great  sometimes.     There 

V  are  a  great  many  kinds  of  coins  of  different  nations 

VI  the  English,  the  French,  the  American,  the  Austriun,  and  the 

VII  Russian,  and  a  great  many  others  kinds  of  coins, 

VIII  There  has  been  a  great  deal  of  money  spent  in 

IX  the  war,  To  pay  the  soldier,  and  to  buy  the  imple- 

X  ments  of  war,  such  as  cannons,  mortars,  and  cannans  balls 

XI  and  powder,  and  some  of  it  to  give  to  the  widows 

XII  of  the  soldierds  who  have  been  killed,  There  are 

XIII  two  kinds  of  Money,  one  kind  of  which  is  paper 

XIV  and  the  other  kind  is  speice  which  is  coin  such 

XV  as  gold  silver  and  copper  The  coin,  of  the  United 

XVI,  States  are  eagles,  dollars,  dimes,  cents,  and 

XVII,  mills,  These  are  gold  silver  and  copper.    The 

XVIII,  Eagles  dollars  are  gold,  dollars  dimes  half  dimes  are  sil- 

XIX,  ver,  cents  and  half  cents  are  copper.,  Besides  the  paper 

XX  money  of  the  United  States,  which  are  the  100,  10,  5 

XXI  dollars  and  less. 

"What  I  like  about  it,"  said  Polly,  stooping  so  that  the 
kitten  could  jump  off  her  shoulder,  "is  the  way  you  have 
numbered  the  lines.  Those  Xs  and  Vs  take  up  a  lot  more 
space  than  plain  figures,  and  they  help  to  fill  up  beautifully. 
Our  teacher  now  wants  us  to  write  forty  lines,  but  she 
won't  let  us  number  them-1- is  n't  that  mean?" 

"  I  suppose  you  could  write  a  very  different  composition 


CAKES   AND   A   COMPOSITION.  75 

on  the  same  subject  now,  Tom,  since  you  have  been  in 
search  of  the  money  stolen  from  your  great-grandfather/' 
Mrs.  Paulding  suggested. 

"  I  don't  know,"  Tom  answered,  with  a  laugh ;  "  I  think  I 
have  learned  something  about  the  history  of  the  battles  here 
in  September,  1776 ;  but  I  don't  know  any  more  about 
money,  because  I  have  n't  found  any  yet." 

"  How  do  you  get  on  with  your  search  ? "  asked  his  mother. 

"  I  don't  get  on  at  all,"  Tom  answered,  frankly.  "  I  seem 
to  have  found  out  all  there  is  to  know — and  that  does  n't 
tell  me  anything  really.  I  know  all  about  the  stealing,  but 
I  have  n't  the  first  idea  where  the  stolen  money  is." 

"  Then  I  would  not  waste  any  more  time  on  it,"  said  Mrs. 
Paulding. 

"  Oh,  I  'm  not  going  to  give  it  up  now,"  Tom  declared, 
forcibly ;  "  it 's  just  like  a  puzzle  to  me,  and  I  've  worked 
over  puzzles  before.  Sometimes  you  go  a  long  while,  and 
you  don't  see  in  the  least  how  it  could  be  done ;  and  then, 
all  of  a  sudden,  it  comes  to  you,  and  you  do  it  as  easily  as 
can  be.  And  that 's  what  I  hope  will  happen  about  this  two- 
thousand-guinea  puzzle.  At  any  rate,  that 's  the  biggest 
prize  I  ever  had  a  chance  at,  and  I  'm  not  going  to  give  it 
up  without  trying  hard  for  it." 

Mrs.  Paulding's  eyes  lighted  up  with  pleasure  at  Tom's 
energy. 

"  I  wish  your  Uncle  Dick  were  here  to  help  you,"  she  said. 

"I'd  rather  do  it  all  by  myself,  if  I  can,"  Tom  returned. 
"  If  I  can't,  then  I  'd  like  Uncle  Dick's  help." 


76  TOM   PAULDING. 

"  Where  is  Uncle  Dick  now  ? "  asked  Pauline. 

"  I  believe  he  is  at  the  diamond-fields  in  South  Africa,"  her 
mother  answered.  "  That  is  where  I  wrote  him  last ;  but  I 
have  n't  heard  from  him  for  nearly  a  year  now." 

"  But  if  Uncle  Dick  came  back,  mother,  we  should  n't  need 
the  two  thousand  guineas,"  said  Tom ;  "  he  'd  pay  off  the 
mortgage,  and  send  me  to  study  engineering,  and  get  a  new 
doll  for  Polly,  and — " 

"I  'm  not  a  baby  !  "  interrupted  Pauline,  "  and  I  don't  want 
a  new  doll.  If  I  had  lots  and  lots  of  money,  I  think  I  should 
like  a  little  teeny-weeny  tiger — just  a  tiger-kitten,  you  know. 
It  would  be  such  fun  to  play  with  it.  Is  Uncle  Dick  very 
rich,  Marmee  ? " 

"  I  do  not  know  whether  he  has  any  money  at  all  or  not," 
answered  Mrs.  Paulding.  "  He  was  always  a  rolling  stone, 
and  I  doubt  if  he  has  gathered  any  moss." 

"  I  should  n't  like  an  uncle  who  had  about  him  anything 
so  green  as  moss,"  said  Tom. 

"  We  'd  like  to  see  him,  if  he  had  n't  a  cent,"  cried  Polly. 
"  But  I  've  read  stories  where  uncles  came  back,  and  were 
ever  so  rich,  and  did  everything  you  wanted,  and  paid  off  the 
mortgage,  and  gave  everybody  all  the  money  they  needed." 

"  I  'm  afraid  you  must  n't  expect  that  kind  of  an  uncle," 
sighed  Mrs.  Paulding. 

"  Then  I  wish  we  had  a  fairy  godmother !  "  Polly  declared. 

"  We  've  got  something  finer  than  that,"  said  Tom,  bending 
forward  and  kissing  Mrs.  Paulding ;  "  we  've  got  a  mother 
better  than  any  fairy." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


A   QUARREL   AND   AN   ARRIVAL. 


'T  must  not  be  supposed  that  Tom  Pauld- 
ing's whole  time  was  given  up  to  Ins  quest 
for  the  stolen  guineas,  or  that  he  in  any- 
way neglected  his  studies  at  school  or  his 
duties  at  home.  He  went  to  school  regu- 
larly, and  he  did  his  usual  tasks  much  as 
he  had  done  them  before  he  had  taken  up  the  search ;  per- 
haps his  interest  in  American  history  was  a  little  keener  now 
that  he  felt  himself  in  touch  with  the  soldiers  of  the  Conti- 
nental army.  His  liking  for  mathematics,  and  his  ingenuity 
in  solving  problems,  were  no  greater  than  before,  as  the 
science  of  numbers  had  always  been  his  favorite  branch  of 
learning. 

At  home,  as  at  school,  life  went  ou  with  the  same  round 
of  duties  and  pleasures,  the  sameness  of  which  was  not  re- 
lieved after  Tom  had  set  his  mind  on  a  single  object.  It  was 
only  on  Saturdays,  and  then  chieny  in  the  afternoon,  that 
Tom  could  really  devote  himself  to  his  quest.  And  this  fix- 
ing of  Tom's  energies  on  a  private  enterprise  caused  a  loosen- 


73  TOM   PAULDING. 

ing  of  the  tie  that  bound  him  to  the  Black  Band.  He  lacked 
the  time  to  take  part  in  all  the  elaborate  sports  of  liis  friends ; 
and  although,  now  and  again,  some  specially  wold  plan  of  the 
delicate  Harry  Zachary  might  for  a  moment  tempt  him,  he 
wavered  for  a  moment  only  and  went  on  his  own  way  with 
little  regret,  leaving  his  friends  to  amuse  themselves  after 
their  fashion. 

At  first  this  giving  up  of  the  pleasant  sports  of  boyhood, 
even  for  a  little  while,  was  not  easy ;  but  as  time  went  on, 
and  as  Tom  became  more  and  more  deeply  interested  in  the 
work  to  which  he  had  given  himself,  he  found  that  it  was 
easier  and  easier  to  turn  aside  from  the  tempting  suggestions 
of  Harry  Zachary  and  the  hearty  invitations  of  Cissy  Smith. 
It  seemed  to  Tom  as  if  he  had  now  a  more  serious  object  in 
life,  to  gain  which  would  relieve  not  only  himself,  but  his 
mother  and  his  sister ;  and  this  thought  strengthened  him, 
and  he  ceased  to  regret  in  any  way  his  lessened  interest  in 
the  doings  of  the  Black  Band. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  Saturday  when  Pauline  had  read 
his  early  composition  on  "  Money,"  Tom  took  a  map  he  had 
found  in  the  boxes  of  papers.  This  was  the  map  roughly 
outlined  by  Nicholas  Paulding,  and  it  showed  the  position  of 
the  American  and  British  forces  on  the  night  of  the  robbery. 
On  it  were  marked  also  the  situation  of  the  camp-fire  where 
Nicholas  had  slept  that  evening,  and  the  posts  of  the  two 
sentries  who  had  fired  at  the  thief.  It  showed,  moreover,  the 
course  of  the  little  stream  which  separated  the  opposing 
armies.     Tom  intended  to  compare  this  map  with  the  ground 


A   QUARREL   AND   AN   ARRIVAL.  79 

as  it  was  now,  and  to  see  if  he  could  identify  any  of  the  land- 
marks, and  so  make  sure  exactly  where  the  robbery  took 
place  and  in  which  direction  Jeffrey  Kerr  had  fled. 

The  weather  was  mild  for  the  season  of  the  year.  It  was 
almost  the  middle  of  December,  and  as  yet  there  had  been 
neither  ice  nor  snow.  A  bright,  clear  December  day  in  New 
York  is,  as  Shakspere  says  of  old  age,  "  frosty,  but  kindly." 
Tom  felt  the  bracing  effect  of  the  breeze  as  he  stepped  briskly 
along.  What  he  wished  chiefly  to  discover  was  a  trace  of 
the  brook  which  the  map  indicated  as  having  flowed  between 
the  camp  of  George  Washington's  men  and  the  camp  of  the 
men  of  George  III.  He  knew  the  ground  fairly  well  already, 
but  he  did  not  recall  any  such  stream. 

As  he  was  hurrying  along  he  came  suddenly  upon  a  little 
group  of  the  Black  Band,  marching  down  the  street  two 
abreast  under  command  of  Cissy  Smith,  who  careened  at  the 
head. 

"  Hello,  Tom  !  "  cried  Cissy  Smith. 

"  Hello  !  "  replied  Tom. 

"  Halt ! "  commanded  the  leader  of  the  Black  Band. 
"  Break  ranks !     Go  as  you  please  !  " 

Lott  twisted  himself  forward  and  greeted  Tom  sneer- 
ingly : 

"  Hello,  Curly !  Are  you  off  on  your  wild-goose  chase 
now?" 

"  Look  here,  Corkscrew,  I  Ve  told  you  before  that  I  won't 
be  called  Curly !  And  you  sha'n't  do  it  any  more,"  Tom 
declared,  indignantly.     He  regretted  bitterly  that  his  dark 


80  TOM   PAULDING. 

hair  persisted  in  curling,  despite  his  utmost  endeavor  to 
straighten  it  out  and  to  plaster  it  down. 

"If  I  had  hair  like  a  girl's,  all  curls  and  ringlets,  I 
should  n't  mind  being  called  Curly,"  Corkscrew  explained,  a 
little  sulkily. 

"Well,  I  do  mind,"  Tom  said,  emphatically ;  "and  I  want 
it  stopped." 

Lott  was  silent.  Perhaps  he  had  no  answer  ready.  He 
was  a  little  older  than  Tom,  and  of  late  he  had  begun  to 
grow  at  a  most  surprising  rate.  He  was  already  the  tallest 
boy  of  the  group.  Cissy  Smith  had  said  that  if  Corkscrew 
only  kept  on  growing,  the  Black  Band  would  make  him  their 
standard-bearer  and  use  him  as  the  flagstaff,  too.  Lott's 
spare  figure  seemed  taller  and  thinner  than  it  was  because  of 
the  high  boots  he  always  wore. 

"  I  reckon  there  '11  be  a  row  between  Tom  and  Corkscrew, 
sooner  or  later,"  whispered  Harry  Zachary  to  Smith.  "They 
are  both  of  'em  just  spoiling  for  a  fight." 

"  Tom  would  knock  the  fight  out  of  him  in  no  time,"  Cissy 
answered.  "  He 's  well  set  up,  while  Lott 's  all  out  of  shape, 
like  a  big  clothes-pin.  If  he  tried  to  bully  me,  I  'd  tell  him 
to  stop  it,  or  I  'd  make  him  sorry." 

Lott  hesitated  and  then  held  out  his  hand  to  Tom.  "  I  tell 
you  what  I  '11  do,"  he  said.  "  I  '11  agree  never  to  call  you 
Curly  again,  if  you'll  take  me  into  this  search  of  yours.  I'd 
like  to  know  all  about  it,  and  I  can  find  out  a  lot  for  you." 

"  Oh,  ho  !  "  cried  Cissy.  "  I  thought  you  called  it  a  wild- 
goose  chase  ? " 


A   QUARREL   AND   AN   ARRIVAL.  81 

"So  I  did,"  Lott  replied.  "But  that  was  only  to  tease 
Tom." 

"  I  do  not  want  any  help/'  Tom  declared. 

"  I  11  do  what  I  can,"  urged  Lott.  "And  when  we  get  it, 
I  '11  ask  for  only  a  third  of  the  money." 

"  No,"  Tom  replied.  "  I  'm  going  to  find  it  alone  or  not  at 
all." 

"I  '11  help  you  for  a  quarter  of  what  we  get — "  Lott  went 
on. 

"  There  's  no  use  talking  about  it,"  said  Tom.  "  When  I 
want  a  side-partner  in  this  business,  I  '11  pick  one  out  for 
myself." 

"All  right,"  Corkscrew  answered,  with  a  sudden  twist 
which  took  him  out  of  the  circle.  "  It 's  your  loss,  not  mine. 
Any  way,  I  don't  believe  you  '11  ever  find  anything,  either." 

At  this  juncture  little  Jimmy  Wigger  ran  up  breatlilessly 
and  joined  the  group  of  boys. 

"  Are  you  going  to  play  any  good  games  to-day  ? "  he  asked, 
eagerly.  "  Can't  I  play,  too  ?  I  'd  have  been  here  before,  but 
my  aunt  would  n't  let  me  till  now.  She 's  given  me  permis- 
sion to  be  out  two  hours  if  I  'm  with  Cissy  or  Tom,  and  if  I 
promise  to  be  very  careful  and  not  to  get  my  feet  wet." 

"  I  '11  take  care  of  you,"  said  Cissy. 

"  And  we  '11  let  you  play  with  us,  if  you  are  a  good  boy, 
and  don't  cry,"  added  Lott. 

"  I  have  n't  cried  for  'most  a  year  now,"  little  Jimmy  de- 
clared, indignantly. 

"  Then  see  you  don't  cry  to-day,"  said  Lott,  taking  from 


82  TOM   PAULDING. 

his  pocket  what  was  apparently  a  bit  of  wooden  pencil. 
"  Oh,  I  say,  Jimmy,  just  hold  this  for  me,  will  you,  while  I 
tie  it  ? " 

"  Certainly,"  little  Jimmy  replied,  willingly. 

"  Hold  it  this  way,"  Lott  explained,  "  between  your  thumb 
and  your  finger — so.  Press  tight  against  each  end — that 's 
it.     Now  I  '11  tie  the  string." 

As  Corkscrew  took  hold  of  the  threads  which  came  out  of 
a  hole  in  the  middle  of  the  pencil,  and  which,  if  pulled,  woidd 
thrust  two  needles  into  little  Jimmy's  hand,  Tom  grabbed 
him  by  the  arm. 

"Drop  that,  Corkscrew!"  he  cried.  "You  sha'n't  play 
that  on  Jimmy." 

"Why  not?"  asked  Lott.  "I  fooled  you  with  it  yester- 
day." 

"  I  'm  old  enough  to  take  care  of  myself,"  Tom  answered. 
"  Jimmy  is  n't.  Besides,  he 's  just  been  put  under  my  care 
and  Cissy's  for  to-day." 

Lott  sullenly  wound  the  threads  about  the  mean  contriv- 
ance in  preparing  which  he  had  spent  his  study  hour  the  day 
before.  As  he  put  it  in  his  pocket  he  said,  "  I  don't  see  why 
some  people  can't  mind  their  own  business !  " 

"  I  'm  going  to  make  it  my  business  to  keep  you  from 
bullying  Jimmy,"  Tom  responded. 

"How  are  you  going  to  do  it?"  sneered  Lott. 

"I  Ve  been  able  to  do  it  so  far  by  catching  you  in  time. 
But  before  we  get  through  I  believe  we  shall  have  to  fight  it 
out,"  Tom  asserted. 


A   QUARREL   AND  AN   ARRIVAL. 


83 


"  Oh,   indeed ! "   Lott  rejoined.     "And   who  '11  take  you 
home  to  your  mother  then  ? " 

"  I  'm  younger  than  you/'  Tom  answered,  "  and  I  'm  not  so 
big,  but  I  don't  believe  you  can  hurt  me.  And  I  don't  mean 
to  have  you  hurt 
Jimmy    here.       Do 

'M&m     ,      -•, 


fflfiS^ 


you  understand  ? " 

"Oh, yes,  I  under- 
stand fast  enough," 
Corkscrew  rejoined; 
"  and  I  shall  do  just 
what  I  like.  So 
there ! " 

There  was  a  little 
more  talk  among  the 
boys,  and  then  they 
parted.  The  Black 
Band  marched  off, 
Cissy  Smith  lurch- 
ing ahead  as  cap- 
tain, with  little  Jim- 
my Wigger  and 
Corkscrew  Lott  in  the  ranks  together.  Tom  went  on  his 
way  to  verify  the  map  made  by  liis  great-grandfather. 

Just  as  the  Black  Band  was  going  around  a  corner  which 
woidd  take  them  out  of  sight,  Lott  stopped  and  called  back. 

Tom  turned  in  answer  to  this  hail.     What  he  heard  was 
the  taunting  voice  of  Corkscrew  shouting  after  him,  "  Good- 


"  TOM   WAS   ABLE   TO    KIND   MOST   OF   THE    POSITIONS 
INDICATED   ON   THE   MAP." 


S-t  TOM  PAULDING. 

by,  Curly  !  Curly  !  Oh,  Curly  !  Put  them  up  in  paper  when 
you  get  home  !  " 

Tom  hesitated  whether  he  should  run  after  Lott  and  have 
their  fight  out  once  for  all,  or  whether  he  should  pay  no  at- 
tention to  his  words.  He  chose  the  latter  course,  and  went 
on  his  way  again. 

During  the  afternoon,  before  the  early  twilight  closed  in, 
he  was  able  to  find  most  of  the  positions  indicated  on  the 
map.  Some  of  them  were  plainly  to  be  seen,  being  very  little 
changed  from  their  condition  the  night  before  the  Battle  of 
Harlem  Heights.  Others  were  difficult  to  verify,  because  of 
the  new  streets  and  the  houses  which  had  been  built  of  late 
years. 

The  little  brook,  which  was  the  chief  object  Tom  wished 
to  trace,  he  succeeded  at  last  in  locating  precisely.  Of  course 
it  was  no  longer  a  brook.  When  streets  are  run  across 
meadows  and  through  hills,  the  watercourses  must  needs 
he  dry  and  bare.  But  there  were  several  adjoining  blocks 
where  the  street-level  was  higher  than  the  original  surface, 
and  where  the  vacant  lots  had  not  been  filled  in. 

Across  three  of  these  open  spaces  Tom  was  able  to  trace 
the  course  of  the  little  stream,  with  its  occasional  rock-bor- 
dered pools,  in  which  fish  once  used  to  feed,  and  which  had 
become  dry  and  deserted.  The  wallows  which  bordered  one 
bank  of  the  brook  were  still  standing.  Tom  was  successful 
in  discovering  even  the  site  of  the  Seven  Stones  which  had 
served  for  a  passage  across  the  stream  where  it  broadened 
out  into  a  tiny  pond. 


A   QUARREL   AND   AN   ARRIVAL.  85 

In  the  plan  made  by  Tom's  great-grandfather  these  were 
marked  "the  stepping-stones"  simply;  but  in  another  and 
rougher  map,  which  also  Tom  had  found  among  the  papers 
of  Wyllys  Paulding,  they  were  called  the  Seven  Stones. 
Tom  was  interested  in  identifying  them,  as  he  thought  that 
Jeffrey  Kerr  might  have  crossed  them  in  his  flight  from  the 
American  camp  to  the  British. 

But  as  Kerr  never  reached  the  British  forces,  there  was  no 
need  of  speculating  how  it  was  that  he  might  have  gone  if 
he  had  reached  them.  This  Tom  felt  keenly.  In  fact  the 
more  he  studied  the  situation,  and  the  better  he  became  ac- 
quainted with  the  siu'roundings,  the  more  difficult  seemed  the 
problem  of  Kerr's  disappearance.  When  that  feeling  was  at 
its  worst,  he  would  recollect  that  his  grandfather  had  made 
the  same  inquiries  he  was  now  trying  to  make,  and  that  his 
grandfather  had  suddenly  and  unhesitatingly  abandoned  the 
quest ;  and  the  reason  for  this  strange  proceeding  seemed  to 
Tom  as  hard  to  seek  as  the  other. 

Tom  walked  slowly  home  in  the  gathering  dusk  of  the  De- 
cember day.  The  sun  was  setting  far  down  across  the  river, 
and  the  clouds  were  rosy  and  golden  with  the  glow.  Tom 
did  not  see  the  glories  of  nature ;  his  mind  was  busy  with  his 
puzzles.  He  kept  turning  them  over  and  over  again.  He 
wished  that  he  had  some  one  to  whom  he  could  talk  plainly, 
and  who  might  be  able  to  suggest  some  new  point  of  view. 
None  of  his  school-fellows  was  available  for  this  purpose. 
Corkscrew,  of  course,  would  not  do,  and  Harry  Zachary  was 
too  young,  while  Cissy  Smith  was  so  practical  and  so  sarcas- 


86  TOM  PAULDING. 

tic  sometimes  that  Tom  hated  to  go  to  him,  although  he  and 
Cissy  were  the  best  of  friends. 

His  mother  he  was  not  willing  to  bother  with  his  hopes  and 
his  fears.  She  had  her  own  burdens.  Besides,  the  delight 
of  bringing  her  money  to  pay  off  the  mortgage  and  do  with 
as  she  pleased  would  be  sadly  damped  if  she  had  any  share 
in  the  recovery  of  the  guineas. 

Tom  foimd  himself  wishing  that  he  had  some  older  friend 
whom  he  could  consult.  He  wondered  even  whether  he 
might  not  do  well  to  go  down  town  and  have  a  talk  with  the 
lawyer,  Mr.  Duncan. 

When  he  had  climbed  the  steep  flight  of  wooden  steps 
which  led  from  the  street  to  the  ground  about  their  house,  he 
thought  he  saw  Pauline  at  a  window  as  though  she  were 
waiting  for  him.  As  he  drew  near  the  porch,  the  front  door 
was  opened  and  Pauline  came  flying  out,  her  eyes  sparkling 
and  her  hair  streaming  out  behind. 

"  Tom,"  she  cried ;   "  oh,  Tom,  guess  who  is  here  !  " 

"  I  can't  guess,"  he  answered.     "  Who  is  it  ?  " 

"  It 's  Uncle  Dick,"  she  answered.  "  He  came  this  after- 
noon just  after  you  went  out,  and  I  was  all  alone,  and  I  had 
to  receive  him.  And  now  he  's  in  the  parlor  talking  to  Mar- 
mee  and  waiting  to  see  you." 

Here,  as  it  happened,  was  the  very  friend  Tom  had  been 
hoping  for. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


UNCLE   DICK. 


HEN  Tom  followed  Pauline  into  the  parlor 
he  found  his  uncle  seated  on  the  sofa  be- 
side their  mother.  The  first  sight  of  his 
uncle  gave  Tom  the  impression  of  strength 
and  heartiness,  which  was  confirmed  as 
they  came  to  know  each  other  well.  Uncle 
Dick  was  neither  tall  nor  stout,  but  his  figure  was  well  built 
and  solid ;  perhaps  he  was  rather  under  than  over  the  aver- 
age height  of  man.  His  eyes  were  dark,  and  so  was  his 
hair,  save  where  it  was  touched  with  gray  at  the  temples. 
His  hands,  which  were  resting  on  his  knees,  seemed  a  little 
large ;  and  the  distinct  sinews  of  the  wrists  indicated  unusual 
strength  of  grip.  His  face  was  clean  shaven,  except  for  the 
mustache  which  curled  heavily  down  each  cheek. 

His  smile  was  kindly  as  his  eyes  looked  Tom  straight  in 
the  face,  and  his  greeting  was  hearty. 

"  So  this  is  Tom,  is  it  ? "  he  said,  holding  out  his  hand  and 
giving  Tom  a  cordial  clasp. 

"And  you  are  Uncle  Dick,"  Tom  responded,  echoing  his 
uncle's  pleasant  laugh. 


88  TOM   PAULDING. 

"  Yes,  I  am  Uncle  Dick.  I  'm  your  mother's  only  brother, 
and  yon  are  her  only  son.     Let  me  get  a  good  look  at  you." 

So  saying,  he  raised  his  hands  and  grasped  Tom  by  the 
shoulders  and  held  the  boy  off  at  arm's-length,  while  he  took 
stock  of  him. 

After  a  long  searching  gaze,  which  Tom  met  unflinchingly, 
Uncle  Dick  said  to  Mrs.  Paulding,  "  He  has  your  eyes,  Mary, 
and  your  hair, — but  how  like  he  is  to  his  father  !  " 

Despite  his  bold  front,  Tom  had  endured  the  close  scrutiny 
with  secret  discomfort ;  but  now  he  flushed  with  pleasure. 
Mrs.  Paulding  had  often  talked  to  her  son  about  the  father 
he  could  scarcely  remember,  and  it  was  Tom's  chief  wish  to 
grow  as  like  his  father  as  he  could. 

"  Yes,"  repeated  Uncle  Dick,  "  he  is  very  like  Stuyvesant." 
Then  he  released  his  hold  on  Tom's  shoulders.  "  I  do  not 
see,  Mary,"  he  said,  turning  to  Mrs.  Paulding,  "  that  you  have 
any  reason  to  be  dissatisfied  with  these  youngsters.  They 
look  like  healthy  young  Americans  with  clear  consciences 
and  good  appetites.  If  they  take  to  me  as  I  have  taken  to 
them,  we  shall  get  along  all  right." 

"I  'm  sure  we  shall  all  be  ever  so  fond  of  you,  if  you -'11 
only  stay  here,"  said  Pauline ;  "  in  fact,  I  'm  fond  of  you 
now." 

"You  see,  your  sister  and  I,"  explained  Uncle  Dick  to 
Tom,  "  have  already  made  friends.  She  has  shown  me  round 
her  cat-ranch  outside  there,  and  —  " 

"  And  what  do  you  think  ? "  interrupted  Pauline.  "  Mousie 
approved  of  Uncle  Dick  at  once,  and  went  up  and  let  him 


ill  I 


UNCLE   DICK.  91 

stroke  his  neck — and  you  know  Mousie  is  very  hard  to 
please." 

"  Then  I  can  look  upon  Mousie's  approval  of  me  as  a  cer- 
tificate of  good  moral  character/'  said  Uncle  Dick,  with  a 
ringing  laugh.  "And  I  don't  know  but  what  I  'd  rather  have 
a  letter  of  recommendation  from  a  dumb  beast  than  from 
many  a  man  I  've  met.  As  a  judge  of  human  nature,  '  the 
biped  without  feathers/  as  Plato  called  him,  is  sometimes 
inferior  to  our  four-footed  friends." 

"  I  'm  glad  to  be  told  I  'm  like  my  father,"  Tom  remarked, 
as  he  sat  down  by  his  mother's  side. 

"  You  are  like  him,  as  I  've  said,"  responded  his  uncle,  "  and 
that 's  a  reason  you  and  I  should  be  good  friends, — for  no 
man  ever  had  a  better  friend  than  your  father  was  to  me. 
When  we  were  boys  of  your  age  we  played  together  on  these 
grounds ;  and  we  went  off  on  long  walks  together  up  to  High 
Bridge  and  across  the  Harlem  River.  This  is  a  fine  place  for 
a  boy — at  least  we  found  it  so.  There  are  lots  of  good  spots 
for  sham  fights  and  so  forth.  Down  in  the  woods  by  the 
river,  near  the  railroad  track,  we  used  to  go  on  long  scouting- 
raids  after  the  Indians.  But  I  suppose  that  is  altogether  too 
old-fashioned  a  sport  for  you  boys  nowadays." 

Tom  promptly  informed  his  uncle  all  about  the  Black 
Band,  and  about  the  bonfire  on  election  night,  when  he  had 
to  run  the  gantlet  and  had  afterward  been  burnt  at  the  stake. 

"  Mother  has  told  us  about  your  adventure  with  the  Indians 
in  the  Black  Hills,"  Tom  said ;  "  that  is,  she  's  told  us  all  you 
wrote,  but  there  must  be  lots  more  to  tell — is  n't  there?" 


92  TOM   PAULDING. 

"There  's  one  thing  to  tell,"  replied  Uncle  Dick;  "it 's  a 
great  deal  more  fun  to  play  at  Indians  here  on  Manhattan 
Island  than  it  is  to  have  the  real  redskins  come  whooping 
after  your  scalp." 

"  They  did  n't  get  yours,  did  they  ? "  asked  Pauline. 

"  They  did  n't  that  time  —  but  it  was  a  very  tight  squeak," 
Uncle  Dick  answered. 

"  You  '11  tell  us  about  all  your  adventures,  won't  you  ? p 
Pauline  besought. 

Uncle  Dick  laughed  heartily.  "  I  've  been  about  a  good 
deal,  here  and  there,  but  I  don't  know  that  I  've  really  had 
any  adventures  that  you  could  call  adventures,"  he  said. 

"  But  you  ran  away  to  sea  ? "  Polly  cried. 

"Oh,  yes,"  he  answered. 

"  And  you  were  wrecked  ? "  she  continued. 

"  Yes,"  assented  her  uncle. 

"  And  you  went  to  the  war,  and  you  were  taken  prisoner  ? " 
she  went  on. 

"  Yes." 

"  And  you  've  fought  the  horrid  Indians,  and  you  've  been 
to  Africa  for  diamonds,  and  you  've  done  lots  and  lots  of 
other  things  like  that, —  and  if  those  are  not  adventures,  I  'd 
just  like  to  know  what  are?"  she  urged. 

"  Some  of  these  things  were  rather  exciting  while  they 
lasted,"  said  Uncle  Dick,  calmly,  "but  I  don't  think  I  should 
call  any  of  them  adventures." 

"  What  would  you  call  an  adventure,  then  ? "  asked  Pauline. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  he  replied.     "  Perhaps  it  is  an  advent- 


UNCLE   DICK.  93 

ure  to  have  been  shut  up  in  the  Rock  Temple  at  Petra,  alone 
with  your  deadly  enemy,  when  he  had  a  revolver  and  you 
had  nothing  but  a  penknife,  and  when  you  believed  that  if 
you  got  out  alive  the  natives  outside  would  promptly  kill 
you." 

"Did  that  happen  to  you?"  asked  Tom,  with  intense 
interest. 

"Well,  it  was  n't  exactly  that  way,"  responded  his  uncle. 
"  You  see  he  had  only  a  single-barreled  pistol  and  I  had  a 
bowie-knife,  so  it  was  almost  an  even  thing." 

"  Did  you  fight  him "? "  Polly  inquired. 

"  I  had  to." 

"  And  how  did  it  end  ? "  Polly  asked,  eagerly.  "  Did  he 
kiU  you?" 

Uncle  Dick  laughed  again  and  responded,  "  Do  I  look  like 
a  ghost  ? " 

Polly  blushed  and  explained  hastily,  "  I  mean,  did  you  kill 
him  ? " 

"  No,"  her  uncle  said,  "  I  did  n't  kill  him  and  he  did  n't  kill 
me.  He  fired  at  me  and  missed  my  head  by  half  an  inch — 
I  believe  he  did  cut  off  a  stray  lock  of  hair — you  see  I  have 
curls  like  yours,  Tom." 

"  And  what  did  you  do  then  ? "  was  Polly's  instant  query. 

"  He  sprang  on  me  and  I  defended  myself,  and  he  got  a 
wound  —  " 

"  A  serious  wound  ? "  asked  Polly. 

"  I  never  yet  saw  a  wound  that  was  comic,"  Uncle  Dick  re- 
plied, "  either  for  the  man  who  had  it,  or  the  man  who  gave 


94  TOM   PAULDING. 

it.  Fighting  is  a  sad  business,  at  best,  and  I  keep  out  of  it 
when  I  can.  As  good  luck  would  have  it,  this  man's  wound 
was  not  dangerous ;  but  it  left  me  free  to  make  my  escape." 

"  But  how  did  you  get  past  the  natives  outside,  who  were 
waiting  to  kill  you  ? "  asked  Tom. 

"  I  did  n't  get  past  them,"  was  the  answer. 

"  But  they  did  n't  Mil  you !  "  Polly  cried. 

"  They  got  ready  to  do  it,"  Uncle  Dick  explained,  "  when  an 
old  sheik  interfered.  He  was  a  great  friend  of  mine,  that 
old  sheik,  and  I  had  done  him  a  favor  once ;  and  so  he  saved 
my  life  and  got  me  away  to  the  coast.  Of  course  you  ought 
to  do  people  favors  whenever  you  can ;  and  the  very  least 
reason  is  that  you  never  know  when  their  gratitude  may 
come  in  handy." 

"How  did  you  happen  to  be  in  the  Rock  Temple?"  asked 
Tom,  "  and  with  your  enemy,  too  ?  " 

"  How  did  I  happen  to  get  into  all  my  scrapes  ? "  returned 
Uncle  Dick.  "For  a  simple  reason.  Because  I  did  not  fol- 
low the  advice  of  the  Turkish  proverb  which  says,  '  Before 
you  go  in,  find  a  way  out.'  All  my  life  I  've  been  going  into 
all  sorts  of  things  —  and  generally  I  've  had  to  squeeze  out 
of  the  little  end  of  the  horn.  As  the  old  colonel  of  my  regi- 
ment used  to  say,  'I  've  had  lots  of  luck  in  my  life — good 
and  bad.' " 

"  It  is  good  luck  which  has  brought  you  back  to  me,  Dick," 
said  Mrs.  Paulding.  "And  the  longer  you  stay  the  better  I 
shall  like  it." 

"  1  don't  know  how  long  it  will  be,  Mary,"  he  answered ; 


UNCLE   DICK.  95 

"  that  all  depends  on  what  Joshua  Hoffmann  says  on  Mon- 
day morning." 

"  Joshua  Hoffmann  ? "  Tom  repeated ;  "  is  n't  he  the  gen- 
tleman who  owns  that  grand  new  house  on  the  Riverside 
Drive,  with  the  broad  piazzas,  and  the  towers,  and  the  ground 
around  it  with  a  brick  wall  ? " 

"  Yes,"  Mrs.  Paulding  replied.  "  Mr.  Hoffmann  has  built 
a  new  house  near  us  since  you  were  here  last,  Dick." 

"  Everything  around  this  place  seems  new  since  I  was  here 
last,"  Uncle  Dick  returned.  "  But  even  if  Joshua  Hoffmann 
has  a  house  near  us,  I  sha'n't  intrude  on  him  up  here  —  at 
least  not  at  first.     I  '11  talk  business  down-town  at  his  office." 

"  He  's  sure  to  be  glad  to  see  you,  Dick,"  said  Mrs.  Pauld- 
ing. "  Children,  you  know  that  your  uncle  saved  Mr.  Hoff- 
mann's life  ? " 

"  I  did  n't  know  it  at  all,"  Tom  replied. 

"  Neither  did  I,"  Uncle  Dick  declared. 

"  Tell  us  all  about  it  at  once,  please,"  Polly  besought.  "  I 
like  to  hear  about  people's  lives  being  saved." 

"It 's  very  little  to  tell,"  her  uncle  responded;  "all  I  did 
was  to  give  him  warning  of  a  plot  against  him.  It  was  when 
he  was  out  in  the  China  Seas,  aboard  his  private  steam- 
yacht,  the  '  Rhadamanthus.'  He  had  a  crew  of  Lascars,  and 
was  going  down  the  coast.  From  a  Chinaman  I  had  once 
recommended  I  received  warning  not  to  go  —  he  'd  offered 
me  a  berth  on  the  yacht —  because  the  Chinese  pirates  had 
bribed  half  the  crew,  and  they  meant  to  attack  Mr.  Hoff- 
mann in  a  pirate  junk  which  would  come  alongside  under 


96  TOM   PAULDING. 

pretense  of  being  in  need  of  water.  Of  course  I  warned  Mr. 
Hoffmann,  and  I  accepted  the  berth  on  the  yacht,  and  we 
made  ready  for  a  good  fight.  We  ran  out  of  port,  dropped 
alongside  an  American  man-of-war,  sent  back  the  treacherous 
crew,  and  took  on  board  a  lot  of  new  men  we  could  trust." 

"And  did  the  pirate  junk  attack  you  ? "  Tom  asked, eagerly. 

"It  did,"  Uncle  Dick  answered.  "And  when  they  made 
their  sudden  assaidt  and  found  us  ready  for  them  with  a 
couple  of  Gatling  guns  on  the  main  deck,  you  never  saw 
pirates  so  surprised  in  all  your  life." 

"I  didn't  know  that  Chinamen  were  ever  pirates,"  said 
Polly;  "I  thought  they  all  either  made  tea  or  took  in 
washing." 

"How  did  the  fight  end?"  was  Tom's  impatient  question. 

"The  junk  was  sunk,  and  the  crew  were  sent  back  as 
prisoners;  and  I  suppose  that  in  time 
they  were  tried  and  sentenced." 

At  this  juncture  in  the  conversation, 
the  Careful  Katie  entered  to  announce 
that  supper  was  ready.     Tom  rushed  up- 
stairs to  wash  and  to  brush  his  hair. 

When  he  came  down,  he  found  his  mother  and  Uncle  Dick 
discussing  Mr.  Joshua  Hoffmann,  who  was  at  once  one  of 
the  richest  and  one  of  the  best  men  in  New  York ;  a  man 
good  himself  and  never  tired  of  doing  good  to  others  ;  a  man 
full  of  public  spirit  and  leading  in  notable  public  enterprises ; 
a  man  who  considered  his  great  fortune  as  a  trust  for  the  bene- 
fit of  those  who  had  been  less  fortunate. 


UNCLE   DICK. 


97 


"  He  's  a  man  riches  have  not  spoiled,"  remarked  Uncle 
Dick ;   "  and  that  's  saying  a  great  deal  for  anybody." 

"He's  a  man  that's  good  to  the  poor,"  interjected  the 
Careful  Katie.     "  Heaven  bless  him  !  " 

For  a  second  Uncle  Dick  looked  a  little  surprised  at  this 


UNCLE    DICK    TliLLS    TOM    AND    1'ULLY    HIS    ADVENTUKuS. 

intrusion  of  the  waitress  into  the   conversation.     Then  he 

laughed  softly  to  himself ;  and  he  said  to  his  sister,  as  the 

Careful  Katie  left  the  dining-room  to  get  the  hot  biscuits,  "I 

see  that  she  is  quite  as  talkative  as  ever." 

Mrs.  Paulding  smiled  and  answered,  "She  's  a  faithful 

creature,  and  I  am  used  to  her  occasional  loquacity." 
9 


98  TOM   PAULDING. 

" I  like  it,"  Uncle  Dick  responded ;  "I  like  anybody  out  of 
the  common, —  anybody  or  anything  that  has  a  character  of 
its  own.  I  have  no  use  for  a  man  who  has  had  all  his  edges 
and  corners  smoothed  off  till  he  is  just  as  round  and  as  com- 
monplace as  his  neighbors." 

The  Careful  Katie  returned  and  placed  on  the  table  a  plate- 
ful of  smoking  hot  biscuits.  As  she  did  this  she  dislodged  a 
knife,  which  fell  to  the  floor. 

"  That 's  a  gentleman 's  coming  to  the  house,"  she  said, 
promptly.  "  Sure  if  I  'd  done  it  yesterday,  I  'd  'a'  said  it 
meant  you  comin'  back  to  us  to-day,  Mr.  Richard." 

"  So  if  you  drop  a  knife  it  means  a  gentleman  is  coming 
to  the  house,  does  it?"  asked  Uncle  Dick,  with  immediate 
interest.  He  had  studied  the  folk-lore  and  strange  beliefs  of 
savage  peoples  in  all  parts  of  the  world ;  and  to  find  a  super- 
stition quite  as  absurd  in  the  chief  city  of  the  United  States, 
in  the  last  quarter  of  the  nineteenth  century,  was  a  surprise. 

"  What  else  should  it  mane  ? "  answered  Katie. 

"  And  if  you  drop  a  fork,"  Uncle  Dick  continued,  "  I  sup- 
pose that  means  a  lady  is  coming  ? " 

"An'  how  could  it  mane  anything  else?"  she  asked  in 
answer.  "  I  do  be  wondering  who  it  is  that  knife  '11  bring 
us  here  to-night." 

And  with  that  she  left  the  room. 

"Mary,"  said  Uncle  Dick,  as  the  door  closed  behind  the 
Careful  Katie,  "you  were  remarking  that  this  house  was 
old-fashioned  and  had  no  modern  conveniences  —  no  dumb- 
waiter, for  example.     It  seems  to  me  that  it  has  something 


UNCLE   DICK.  99 

more  useful  than  a  dumb-waiter, —  it  has  a  talking  wait- 
ress." 

Mrs.  Paulding  laughed.  "  Katie  will  talk  a  little  too  much," 
she  said,  "  but  we  don't  mind  it." 

"  Mind  it !  "  repeated  Uncle  Dick.  "  It  is  delightful.  I  en- 
joy it.  I  have  often  heard  of  a  certain  person's  being  a  brill- 
iant conversationalist  —  and  I  never  knew  exactly  what  that 
meant.  But  now  I  know.  Why,  the  Careful  Katie  is  a  brill- 
iant conversationalist." 

"  She  's  very  good  to  the  pussies,"  said  Polly,  as  if  Uncle 
Dick  were  attacking  the  Careful  Katie. 

"  I  've  no  doubt  she  is  good  in  every  way,"  responded  Uncle 
Dick.  "  She  's  a  good  talker,  and  that  is  a  good  thing.  Con- 
versation is  her  hobby — and  we  must  never  look  a  friend's 
hobby  in  the  mouth." 

In  chat  like  this  the  evening  sped  away.  Pauline  first  and 
then  Tom  went  to  bed  reluctantly,  unwilling  to  leave  their 
uncle,  and  fearing  that  in  their  absence  he  might  tell  of  some 
new  and  strange  adventure  by  land  or  sea.  The  next  day 
was  Sunday ;  and  before  they  went  to  bed  again  they  had 
learned  more  of  their  uncle's  varied  career.  But  it  would 
have  taken  many  a  "  month  of  Sundays,"  as  the  Careful  Katie 
phrased  it,  for  them  to  have  been  told  a  tithe  of  the  extraor- 
dinary adventures  in  which  he  had  taken  part. 

Just  turned  two  score  years  at  the  time  he  went  back  to  his 
sister's  house  in  New  York,  Richard  Rapallo  had  not  spent 
more  than  twelve  weeks  in  any  one  place  since  he  was  thir- 
teen.    A  little  before  the  Rebellion  had  broken  out,  in  Feb- 


100  TOM   PAULDING. 

ruary,  1861,  when  he  was  exactly  thirteen  years  old,  he  had 
run  away  to  sea.  He  made  a  voyage  in  a  whaler  as  cabin- 
boy  ;  and  when  they  had  gathered  a  fair  harvest  of  oil  and 
bone  in  the  Northern  Pacific,  and  had  come  homeward  around 
the  Horn,  and  were  at  last  almost  in  sight  of 
s?Lw^  port,  a  terrific  storm  caught  them  and  blew 
^5  them  far  out  of  their  course,  and  finally 
wrecked  them  on  Sable  Island,  that  well- 
filled  graveyard  of  good  ships. 
When  at  last  Richard  Rapallo  was  taken  off  in  an  American 
vessel,  he  again  met  with  misfortune,  for  the  ship  was  captured 
by  the  Confederate  cruiser  '"Alabama,"  then  just  starting  from 
England  on  her  career  of  destruction.  The  American  crew 
saw  their  ship  burnt  before  their  eyes.  They  were  sent  off  in  a 
little  fishing-smack  to  make  their  way  home  as  best  they  could. 
Richard  Rapallo  was  only  fifteen  when  he  returned  to  New 
York  and  went  back  to  school.  He  was  barely  seventeen 
when  he  enlisted  in  the  army,  then  about  £sft^ 

to  make  its  final  effort  to  crush  the  Con- 
federate forces  and  to  capture  Richmond. 
It  was  in  January,  1805,  that  he  enlisted ; 
and  in  February  his  regiment  had  its  first 
skirmish.  Taken  by  surprise,  two  companies  were  sur- 
rounded and  forced  to  surrender.  Richard  had  scarcely  seen 
any  fighting,  he  had  hardly  heard  a  shot  fired,  but  he  was 
taken  prisoner  like  the  rest;  and  a  prisoner  he  remained 
until  the  war  was  over. 

Since  the  surrender  of  Lee  there  was  hardly  anything  that 


UNCLE   DICK. 


101 


Richard  Rapallo  had  not  done ;  and  there  was  hardly  any- 
where that  he  had  not  been.  The  restlessness  which  had  led 
him  to  run  away  as  a  school-boy  had  grown 
with  the  years  and  with  the  lack  of  re- 
straint, until  it  was  quite  impossible  for  him 
to  settle  down  in  any  one  spot  for  long". 

Young  as  he  was  then,  only  nineteen,  he 
had  had  charge  of  an  important  exhibit  at  the  Paris  Exposi- 
tion of  18G7.  There  he  formed  friend- 
ships which  led  him  to  Algiers  and  thence 
to  Syria  and  to  Egypt.  After  long  wan- 
derings in  the  Dark  Continent  he  came 
back  to  New  York  again ;  and  he  was 
present  at  his  sister's  marriage  to  his  old  friend  and  school- 
fellow, Stnyvesant  Paulding. 

Then  again  he  started  out,  to  the  West 
this  time,  as  if  he  had  had  his  fill  of  the 
East.     He  had  a  ranch  for  a  while ;  and  he 
was  in  the  legislature  of  Nevada  for  a  term ;  and  he  was  one 
of  the  first  men  to  enter  the  Black  Hills. 

He  became  interested  in  a  patent  for  hy- 
draulic mining,  and  it  was  to  introduce  this 
that   he   left  America   for  Australia. 
Here  he  traveled  far  into  the  interior ; 
and  he  was  gone  so  long  with  a  party 
of  friends  that  it  was  feared  they  had  all  been  lost  in  the  bush. 
From  Australia  he  had  gone  up  to  China  and  Japan,  aud 
then  down  again  to  Calcutta  and  Bombay,  forming  one  of  a 


102  TOM   PAULDING. 

party  which  ascended  some  of  the  loftiest  peaks  of  the  Hima- 
layas. Ou  his  way  to  Europe  he  was  invited  to  join  an  ex- 
ploring- expedition  to  the  antarctic  regions;  and  when  the 
explorations  were  concluded,  it  was  by  one  of  the  ships  of 
this  expedition  that  he  was  taken  to  Cape  Colony.  In  time 
he  wandered  north  to  the  diamond-mines,  and  there  he  had 
remained  nearly  a  year. 

In  all  his  voyages  and  his  journeyings,  in  the  haps  and 
mishaps  of  his  varied  career,  he  had  sharpened  his  shrewd- 
ness, mellowed  his  humor,  and  broadened  his  sympathies. 
There  could  be  no  more  congenial  companion  for  a  healthy 
and  intelligent  and  inquiring  boy  like  Tom  Paulding ;  and, 
long  before  Sunday  night,  uncle  and  nephew  were  on  the  best 
of  terms. 

"  I  Ve  been  'Jack  of  all  trades,'"  said  the  man  to  the  boy ;  "I 
hope  you  will  be  master  of  one.  Make  your  choice  early  and 
stick  to  it,  and  don't  waste  your  life  as  I  have  wasted  mine." 

Tom  wondered  whether  this  could  mean  that  Uncle  Dick 
was  not  as  rich  as  he  and  Polly  supposed  that  an  uncle  ought 
to  be — especially  an  uncle  just  back  from  the  diamond-fields. 

He  was  a  little  reassured  on  Sunday  evening  when  Uncle 
Dick  brought  out  a  large  tarnished  pebble,  and  told  them 
that  it  was  a  diamond. 

Tom  felt  that  only  a  rich  man  could  afford  to  keep  dia- 
monds looking  as  shabby  as  that. 

As  to  whether  he  wished  his  uncle  to  be  rich  or  not,  Tom 
could  not  quite  determine  off-hand.  He  himself  would  pre- 
fer to  find  the  guineas  stolen  by  Jeffrey  Kerr,  and  with  them 
to  pay  off  the  mortgage  and  make  sure  his  own  future  and 


UNCLE   DICK.  103 

his  sister's.  But  if  lie  did  not  find  the  guineas, —  and  he 
confessed  that  he  had  made  no  great  progress  as  yet, — then, 
of  course,  it  would  be  very  convenient  indeed  to  have  in  the 
house  a  wealthy  and  generous  uncle. 

Tom  went  to  bed  on  Sunday  night  trying  to  make  up  his 
mind  whether  his  uncle  was  rich,  and  whether  he  wanted  his 
uncle  to  be  rich. 

Almost  the  last  thing  that  he  heard  his  uncle  say,  as  he 
went  up  to  bed  that  night,  made  him  suspect  that  perhaps  a 
man  might  come  back  from  the  diamond-fields  of  South 
Africa  without  being  enormously  wealthy. 

What  Uncle  Dick  had  said  was  this  :  "  I  Ve  gone  abroad 
on  many  a  cruise,  and  I  've  been  in  many  a  port, — but  my 
ship  has  never  come  home  yet."  Then  Uncle  Dick  laughed 
lightly  and  added,  "  Perhaps  she  is  now  refitting  for  the  voy- 
age— at  my  castle  in  Spain." 

Tom  knew  that  a  castle  in  Spain  was  the  sole  residence  of 
the  absolutely  homeless,  and  he  thought  that  this  speech 
meant  that  his  Uncle  Dick's  having  was  less  than  his  hope. 

On  Monday  morning,  as  Tom  went  off  to  school,  Uncle 
Dick  started  with  him,  saying,  "I  've  two  or  three  things  to 
attend  to  down -town  before  I  go  to  see  Joshua  Hoffmann, 
and  I  suppose  I  'd  better  start  early." 

"  I  can  show  the  way  to  the  elevated  railroad  station,"  Tom 
suggested,  as  they  went  down  the  little  flight  of  steps  to  the 
street. 

"  I  don't  want  any  elevated  railroad  station,"  replied  his 
uncle.     "  I  'm  going  to  walk.     '  Shanks's  mare '  is  my  steed : 


104  TOM   PAULDING. 

it  does  n't  take  money  to  make  that  mare  go — but  on  the 
other  hand  it 's  true  that  mare  does  n't  go  very  far." 

Pauline  was  a  little  late  that  morning,  and  when  she  came 
to  kiss  her  mother  good-by,  before  going  to  school,  she  could 
not  resist  the  temptation  of  the  opportunity.     She  said : 

"Marmee,  can  I  ask  you  a  question?" 

"  Certainly,  Polly  dear,"  was  the  answer. 

"  It 's  about  Uncle  Dick,"  Pauline  went  on,  shyly. 

"  Well  f " 

"  Well,  is  he  very  rich  ? "  she  asked  at  last. 

Mrs.  Paulding  looked  down  at  her  little  daughter  and  said, 
"  Why  do  you  ask  that  ? " 

"  Because  Tom  and  I  thought  that  if  Uncle  Dick  had  been 
picking  up  diamonds — I  wonder  if  they  do  it  in  Africa  with 
raw  meat  and  a  big  bird  as  they  did  in  '  Sindbad' — if  he  'd 
been  finding  diamonds,  why,  of  course  he  was  very  rich,  and 
he  'd  pay  the  mortgage  and  make  you  more  comfortable  and 
we  'd  all  be  happier." 

"Your  Uncle  Dick,"  Mrs.  Paulding  said,  smoothing  her 
daughter's  hair,  "  is  not  rich.  He  has  very  little  money,  and 
he  has  gone  now  to  see  Mr.  Hoffmann  hoping  he  can  get  a 
situation  of  some  sort  here  in  New  York." 

"  Oh  !  "  said  Pauline,  "then  he  is  poor?" 

"Yes,"  her  mother  answered.  "He  is  not  in  need,  of 
course  ;  but  he  has  little  or  no  money." 

"  I  must  tell  Tom  as  soon  as  I  can,"  Pauline  remarked, 
gravely ;  "  and  now  he  has  just  (jot  to  find  that  stolen  money 
at  once." 


CHAPTER  X. 


A  LESSON   EN   GEOGRAPHY. 


ITHIN  forty-eight  hours  after  Mr.  Richard 
Rapallo's  arrival  at  Mrs.  Paulding's  house, 
he  had  made  himself  quite  at  home  there. 
He  took  his  place  in  the  family  circle  easily 
and  unobtrusively,  and  before  he  had  been 
in  the  house  more  than  a  week,  Pauline  found  herself  won- 
dering how  they  had  ever  got  on  without  Uncle  Dick ;  Tom 
recognized  in  his  uncle  the  wise  friend  for  whom  he  had 
been  longing  of  late ;  Mrs.  Paulding  was  very  glad  to  have 
her  brother  with  her  again ;  and  even  the  Careful  Katie  was 
pleased. 

"  It 's  a  sight  for  sore  eyes,"  she  said,  "  to  see  Mrs.  Pauld- 
ing so  cheerful !  And  Mr.  Richard  was  always  a  lively  boy 
and  kept  the  pot  a-boilinV 

In  the  Careful  Katie  Uncle  Dick  took  amused  interest. 
Her  willingness  to  enter  now  and  then  into  the  talk  at  the 
dinner-table  afforded  him  unending  entertainment.  He  usu- 
ally called  her  the  "  Brilliant  Conversationalist " ;  and  as  he 
knew  that  this  was  a  nickname  she  would  not  understand, 


106  TOM   PAULDING. 

he  did  not  hesitate  to  allude  to  the  Brilliant  Conversational- 
ist even  when  Katie  was  actually  present. 

He  delighted  in  drawing  her  out  and  in  getting  at  the 
strange  superstitions  in  which  she  believed,  for  they  came  up 
in  the  most  unexpected  ways.  He  would  set  Pauline  to  lead 
her  on  about  signs  and  warnings.  Having  been  told  that 
the  dropping  of  a  knife  meant  the  coming  of  a  "  beau  "  or  of 
"  some  other  gentleman,"  and  that  the  dropping  of  a  fork  in- 
dicated the  visit  of  a  lady,  he  was  greatly  puzzled  to  know 
what  the  dropping  of  a  spoon  could  portend.  Pauline  agreed 
to  find  out  for  him. 

Pauline  and  her  uncle  were  great  friends.  He  had  be- 
come interested  in  her  and  in  her  doings  at  once,  and  he  had 
the  art  of  seeing  things  as  she  did.  In  time  she  wholly  for- 
got that  there  was  a  great  difference  of  years  between  them, 
and  she  came  to  talk  with  her  uncle  as  with  a  comrade  of  her 
own  age. 

She  reported  that  the  fall  of  a  spoon  foretold  that  "it"  was 
coming — "it"  being  something  vague,  unknown,  impossible 
to  predict  with  precision. 

"  I  see,"  said  Uncle  Dick,  when  Polly  told  him  this.  "  I 
see  it  all  now.  The  scheme  is  as  simple  and  as  logical  as 
one  could  wish.  The  knife  indicates  that  the  coming  visitor 
is  masculine,  while  the  fork  is  the  feminine  of  this  prediction, 
and  the  spoon  is  the  neuter." 

"  So  it  is  !  "  Polly  declared,  with  surprise.  "  It 's  just  like 
the  grammar,  then,  is  n't  it  ?  And  I  think  grammar  is 
horrid !  " 


A   LESSON   IN   GEOGRAPHY.  107 

« 

"There  is  n't  much  English  grammar  left  nowadays," 
Uncle  Dick  returned.  "  We  have  shaken  off  most  of  the  un- 
necessary distinctions  of  more  complicated  languages.  In 
French,  now,  the  sun  is  masculine,  while  in  German  it  is 
feminine." 

"  Then,  if  I  was  a  French-and-German  girl  I  should  n't 
know  whether  the  sun  was  a  man  or  a  woman  ? "  asked  Polly. 
"  I  think  that  would  be  terrible  !  " 

"It  would  be  terrible  indeed,"  Uncle  Dick  answered, 
gravely ;  "  but  perhaps  the  sun  would  still  shine,  even  if  you 
did  n't  know  its  gender." 

"  Grammar  's  bad  enough,"  continued  the  little  girl,  "  but 
sometimes  I  think  joggraphy  's  worse." 

"  Oh,  it  's  joggraphy  still,  is  it  1 "  asked  her  uncle.  "  It 
used  to  be  when  I  was  a  boy  at  school." 

"  Of  course  it  's  joggraphy,"  she  returned,  in  surprise. 
"  What  could  it  be  ? " 

"  I  did  n't  know,"  Uncle  Dick  responded.  "  I  thought  that 
perhaps  it  might  now  be  geography." 

"  Oh,  Uncle  Dick  !  "  said  Polly,  blushing,  "  I  think  it 's  real 
mean  of  you  to  catch  me  like  that."  Then,  after  a  little 
pause,  she  added,  "We  do  say  joggraphy,  I  know — that  is, 
we  generally  shorten  it  to  jog.  We  shorten  everything  we 
can.  We  say  Am.  hist,  for  American  history,  and  comp.  for 
compositions,  and  rith.  for  arithmetic." 

"  I  suppose  that  you  have  to  condense  a  great  deal,"  Uncle 
Dick  remarked,  gravely,  "because  you  have  so  little  time  be- 
fore you." 


108  TOM   PAULDING. 

Pauline  did  not  see  the  irony  of  this.  She  went  on  gaily  : 
"  I  don't  like  jog.  any  more ;  we  are  in  Africa  now — " 

"  I  should  n't  have  thought  it,  from  the  weather  here,"  Uncle 
Dick  interrupted,  glancing  at  the  window,  through  which  he 
could  see  the  falling  flakes  of  the  first  snow-storm  of  the 
winter. 

"  I  mean  we  are  i;i  Africa  in  our  jog.,"  she  explained. 

"  I  see,"  he  answered,  sedately. 

"  And  I  don't  like  it  at  all.    It 's  all  so  hard  and  so — so  dry." 

"  I  've  found  Africa  very  dry  myself,"  admitted  her  uncle. 

"Have  you  been  there?"  she  asked.  Then  she  added 
hastily,  "Why,  of  course  you  have.  You  were  at  the  dia- 
mond-fields. Now,  is  n't  that  funny  ?  I  read  about  the  dia- 
mond-fields in  my  jog.,  and  it  never  struck  me  that  they 
were  real  places,  you  know,  where  real  people  might  be,  as 
you  were." 

Uncle  Dick  laughed  a  little.  "  I  can  understand  that,"  he 
remarked.  "  They  were  simply  a  name  on  the  map — simply 
something  that  you  had  to  study  out  of  a  book — not  some- 
thing interesting,  and  alive,  where  there  are  men  and  women 
and  children.  Well,  I  '11  try  and  make  you  take  a  little  more 
interest  in  that  name  on  the  map." 

Then  he  lifted  her  on  his  knee  and  told  her  about  the 
diamond-fields.  He  described  the  country  thereabouts  and 
the  difficulties  of  the  journey  there.  He  explained  how  the 
mines  were  worked,  and  he  showed  her  that  the  laborers 
there  were  human  beings  with  good  qualities  and  bad  quali- 
ties of  their  own.     He  set  before  her  in  a  few  graphic  words 


A  LESSON   IN   GEOGRAPHY. 


109 


the  different  nationalities  that  are  to  be  found  in  South 
Africa — the  English  colonists,  the  Dutch  settlers,  and  the 
native  Africans. 

When  he  had  come  to  an  end  of  his  description,  Pauline 


UNCLE    DICK   TELLS    TOLLY  ABOUT   THE   DIAMOND-FIELDS. 


kissed  him  and  said,  "  Uncle,  I  shall  never  hate  jog.  again. 

I  had  no  idea  it  was  so  interesting.     And  besides,  when  we 

have  a  review  now,  I  shall  know  ever  so  much  more  than  any 

of  the  other  girls.     I  shall  surprise  them  so !  " 

Uncle  Dick  smiled  again.     "  I  Ve  had  that  feeling  myself," 

he  confessed.     "  When  I  went  back  to  school  after  I  'd  been 
10 


110  TOM   PAULDING. 

on  a  voyage,  geography  was  my  favorite  lesson,  because  I  'd 
seen  so  many  of  the  places.  I  remember  to  this  day  how 
conceited  I  was  when  I  told  them  all  that  it  was  n't  necessary 
to  go  around  Cape  Horn  if  you  could  get  into  the  Strait  of 
Lemaire." 

"  I  '11  remember  that,  too/'  Polly  declared,  promptly. 

"  As  long  as  we  were  at  work  on  South  America,"  continued 
Uncle  Dick,  "  I  was  all  right.  I  'd  been  around  it,  and  I 
thought  I  knew  all  about  it ;  and  of  course  I  had  seen  more 
than  any  of  the  others.  But  pride  had  a  fall  at  last,  and 
conceit  got  knocked  on  the  head  as  soon  as  we  finished 
America  and  began  on  Europe." 

"Had  n't  you  been  to  Europe?"  she  inquired. 

"  Not  then ;  I  did  n't  cross  the  Atlantic  until  '67,  at  the 
time  of  the  Paris  Exposition.  And  as  I  knew,  or  thought  I 
knew,  all  about  South  America,  I  'd  got  into  the  habit  of  not 
studying  my  geography  lesson.  There  were  times  when  I 
did  n't  even  open  the  book.  So  one  day, — I  can  remember 
now  how  the  school  looked  when  the  teacher  asked  me  the 
question, — it  was  late  in  June,  and  we  were  all  restless.  I 
think  the  teacher  saw  this  and  wished  to  make  it  as  easy  for 
us  as  she  could,  so  she  called  on  me.  She  had  found  out  that 
I  liked  to  talk,  and  that  the  other  boys  liked  to  hear  me  be- 
cause I  used  to  bring  in  words  and  phrases  I  'd  picked  up 
from  the  sailor-men  during  our  long  voyage.  So  she  called, 
'  Rapallo,'  and  I  stood  up.  And  she  asked,  '  Which  way  does 
the  Nile  fiW  ? '  Now,  I  did  n't  know  anything  at  all  about 
the  Nile  or  about  Africa,  and  I  was  at  a  loss.     I  hesitated, 


A   LESSON   IN   GEOGRAPHY.  Ill 

and  I  tried  to  remember  how  the  Nile  looked  on  the  map. 
But  I  had  n't  really  studied  the  map,  and  I  could  n't  remem- 
ber anything'  at  all.  So  I  did  n't  know  what  to  say.  I  stood 
there  foolishly,  thinking  as  hard  as  I  could.  Then  I  tried  to 
get  out  of  it  by  luck  or  else  by  sheer  guessing.  So  when  she 
repeated  the  question,  '  What  is  the  course  of  the  Nile  ? '  I 
answered  boldly,  '  Southwest  by  south.'  And  you  should 
have  heard  how  the  boys  laughed !  The  teacher  had  to  join 
in  too." 

And  Uncle  Dick  himself  laughed  heartily  at  the  recollec- 
tion of  his  blunder. 

Pauline  smiled,  a  little  doubtfully. 

"  I  think  I  '11  go  out  and  get  a  taste  of  that  snow-storm," 
said  her  uncle,  rising.  "  It  is  the  first  I  Ve  seen  in  three 
years." 

As  soon  as  Uncle  Dick  had  left  the  house,  Pauline  went  to 
her  own  room  and  got  down  her  geography  and  turned  to 
the  map  of  Africa.  She  wished  to  make  sure  of  her  own 
knowledge  as  to  the  course  of  the  Nile,  so  that  she  could  en- 
joy her  uncle's  blunder. 


CHAPTER  XI. 


SANTA   CLAUS   BRINGS   A   SUGGESTION. 


HE  snow-storm  kept  up  all  night,  and  in 
the  morning  there  was  no  denying  that 
winter  had  come  at  last.  The  steep  slopes 
of  the  Riverside  Park  were  covered  three 
inches  deep.  The  boys  got  out  their  sleds 
and  began  to  coast.  A  sharp  frost  fol- 
lowed the  snow-storm  and  froze  the  water  out  of  the  snow,  so 
that  it  was  too  dry  to  make  into  balls. 

Before  the  Christmas  vacation  began,  the  aspect  of  the 
landscape  had  undergone  its  winter  change.  The  skies  were 
dull  and  gray,  though  the  frosty  sunset  glowed  ruddy  over 
the  Jersey  hills.  Ice  began  to  form  in  the  river ;  the  night- 
boats  had  ceased  running  weeks  before ;  and  now  the  long 
tows  of  canal-boats  were  seen  no  more.  Even  the  heavy 
freight-boats  and  the  impudent  little  tugs  became  infrequent, 
as  if  they  feared  to  be  caught  in  the  ice.  The  long  freight- 
trains  stood  still  on  the  tracks  of  the  railroad  down  by  the 
water's  edge,  or  moved  slowly  past  as  the  powerful  locomo- 
tives puffed  their  white  steam  into  the  clear  cold  air. 


SANTA   CLAUS   BRINGS   A   SUGGESTION.  113 

Uncle  Dick  was  in  and  ont  of  the  house  in  the  most  irregu- 
lar way.  Generally  he  went  out  early  in  the  morning,  and 
sometimes  he  did  not  return  till  late  at  night.  Mrs.  Pauld- 
ing never  delayed  dinner  in  the  hope  of  his  coming  back  in 
time  for  it.  He  had  told  her  not  to  expect  him  until  she  saw 
him. 

"I  Ve  many  things  to  do,"  he  explained,  " and  I  Ve  many 
people  to  see,  and  sometimes  I  have  to  catch  them  on  the 
jump,  when  I  get  the  chance." 

Just  what  his  business  was  he  never  explained.  He  did 
not  tell  any  one  in  the  house  whether  or  not  he  had  suc- 
ceeded in  securing  the  situation  for  which  he  had  applied 
to  Joshua  Hoffmann.  Pauline  was  very  curious,  and  she 
wanted  to  ask  her  uncle  about  this ;  but  she  thought  it  would 
not  be  polite.  She  was  always  glad  when  Uncle  Dick  "  took 
an  afternoon  off,"  as  he  phrased  it,  for  then  he  was  likely  to 
spend  a  good  part  of  it  talking  to  her. 

Tom  had  been  busy  with  the  examinations  at  school  and 
with  the  preparations  for  Christmas  at  home,  so  that  it  was 
not  until  the  vacation  began  that  he  found  an  opportunity  to 
consult  his  uncle  about  the  lost  guineas. 

On  the  afternoon  before  Christmas,  Tom  went  out  to  give 
an  order  for  the  supplies  his  mother  needed  to  meet  an  un- 
expected demand  for  several  kinds  of  cake  which  a  tardy 
customer  of  the  Woman's  Exchange  had  called  for.  Having 
done  his  errand,  he  turned  into  the  Riverside  Drive  and  began 
to  walk  along  the  parapet. 

When  he  came  near  the  handsome  house  which  Mr.  Joshua 


114  TOM   PAULDING. 

Hoffmann  had  recently  built,  he  saw  a  carriage  stop  before 
the  door.  Two  gentlemen  got  out,  and  the  carriage  drove 
around  the  corner  to  the  stable.  One  of  these  gentlemen  was 
tall,  thin,  white-haired,  and  evidently  very  old,  although  he 
still  carried  himself  erect.     The  other  was  Tom's  Uncle  Dick. 

The  old  gentleman  apparently  asked  Mr.  Rapallo  to  enter 
the  house,  and  Uncle  Dick  declined,  shaking  hands  and  bid- 
ding good-by.  The  elderly  man  went  up  the  few  steps  which 
took  him  inside  his  own  grounds ;  then  he  paused  and  called 
Mr.  Rapallo  back.  Leaning  over  the  low  stone  wall  which  sur- 
rounded his  lawn,  the  old  gentleman  had  a  brief  talk  with 
Uncle  Dick  —  a  talk  which  ended  a  little  before  Tom  came 
opposite  to  them. 

Then  the  elderly  man  again  shook  hands  with  Mr.  Rapallo 
and  went  into  the  house. 

As  Uncle  Dick  turned  he  caught  sight  of  Tom  Paulding. 

"  Hullo,  youngster !  "  he  cried  across  the  road.  "  Don't  you 
want  to  go  for  a  walk  ? " 

It  seemed  as  if  Uncle  Dick  could  never  have  enough 
walking.  Tom  thought  sometimes  that  his  uncle  took  long 
tramps  just  to  humor  his  restlessness — to  "let  off  steam,"  as 
Tom  expressed  it. 

Mr.  Rapallo  crossed  the  road  and  joined  Tom.  "Where 
shall  we  go  ? "  he  asked. 

"Are  you  in  a  hurry f"  Tom  inquired. 

"I  'm  never  in  a  hurry,"  he  answered. 

"  I  mean,  have  you  time  for  a  long  talk  with  me  ? "  was 
Tom's  next  question. 


MR.    JOSHUA     HOFFMANN     HAS    A    TALK    WITH    UNCLE    DICK. 


SANTA   CLAUS   BRINGS   A   SUGGESTION.  117 

"  Of  course  I  have,"  he  replied.  "  We  've  all  tlie  time  there 
is." 

"  Then  I  '11  take  you  up  and  show  you  the  place  where  my 
great-grandfather  was  robbed/7  said  Tom,  as  they  dropped 
into  the  steady  pace  at  which  Mr.  Rapallo  always  walked. 
"  I  Ve  been  wanting  to  tell  you  all  about  it  and  to  get  your 
advice." 

"Advice  is  inexpensive,"  laughed  his  uncle;  "there  is  n't 
anything  I  can  afford  to  give  more  freely.  But  I  'm  afraid 
you  11  not  find  it  a  very  substantial  Christmas  present." 

"  You  see,  Uncle,"  Tom  pursued,  eagerly,  "  I  've  worked  on 
this  now  till  I  've  done  all  I  can.  I  've  got  to  the  end  of  my 
rope,  and  I  thought  that  you  could  help  me  out  with  your 
experience." 

"  I  've  had  plenty  of  experience,  too,"  returned  Uncle  Dick. 
"  If  experience  was  an  available  stock  in  trade,  I  could  fit  up 
a  store  and  sell  off  my  surplus  supply.  I  've  more  than  I 
need  for  my  own  use.  I  've  been  pretty  nearly  everywhere, 
and  I  Ve  seen  all  sorts  of  things,  and  I  Ve  met  all  sorts  of 
people,  and — I  've  nothing  to  show  for  it  now  but  experience." 

"Your  not  having  money  does  n't  make  you  miserable, 
anyway,"  said  Tom. 

"  I  'm  richer  than  anybody  I  ever  met,"  Uncle  Dick  declared, 
seriously. 

Tom  looked  at  him  in  surprise. 

"  I  don't  mean  in  mere  money,"  he  went  on.  "  Money  is 
only  one  of  the  standards  by  which  you  measure  riches — and 
it  is  n't  a  very  good  one,  either.     I  'm  rich  because  I  have  all 


118  TOM   PAULDING. 

I  want.  I  've  met  wealthy  men  in  all  parts  of  the  world — in 
New  York  and  in  New  Zealand,  among-  the  Eskimos  and 
among  the  Arabs ;  they  had  different  ideas  of  wealth,  of 
course,  but  they  were  all  alike  in  one  thing — they  all  wanted 
more.  I  've  never  met  a  very  wealthy  man  who  did  n't  want 
more  than  he  had.  Now,  I  don't.  I  'm  content.  And  that 's 
'the  best  gift  of  heaven  to  man'  —  contentment.  It  takes 
few  things  to  give  it.  Health,  first,  of  course  ;  then  freedom ; 
then  food  and  clothing ;  after  that,  a  roof  over  one's  head 
and  a  fire  if  it  is  cold.  I  've  been  in  places  where  clothing 
and  fire  and  shelter  were  not  needed,  and  where  the  food 
grew  wild  for  the  picking.  In  those  places  a  man  can  get  the 
essentials  of  life  very  easily.  But  however  he  may  get  them, 
the  main  thing  is  to  be  content  with  little.  After  all,  I  be- 
lieve contentment  is  a  habit.  So  I  advise  you  to  get  accus- 
tomed to  being  content  as  soon  as  you  can.  Then  you  will 
never  long  to  change  places  with  a  wealthy  man.  With  most 
of  them,  the  more  they  have  the  more  they  want.  I  was  talk- 
ing just  now  with  a  very  wealthy  man  —  " 

"  The  Old  Gentleman  who  leaned  over  the  Wall  ? "  Tom  in- 
quired. 

"  The  Old  Gentleman  who  leaned  over  the  Wall,"  his  uncle 
assented.  "  He  has  money,  houses,  lands,  mines,  ships ;  but 
though  he  is  old  and  has  now  earned  his  rest,  and  though  the 
care  of  all  these  things  wears  on  him,  still  he  wants  more.  He 
is  a  good  man,  too, —  one  of  the  best  men  in  the  world  to-day, 
— and  probably  he  wishes  for  more  money  only  that  he  may 
do  more  good  with  it.     But  he  does  wish  for  it,  all  the  same." 


SANTA  CLAUS  BRINGS  A   SUGGESTION.  119 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  'm  not  so  content  as  yon,  Uncle  Dick,"  said 
Tom.  "I  want  more  than  I  have.  Yon  know  mother  is 
troubled  about  that  mortgage,  and  I  'd  like  to  go  to  the  School 
of  Mines,  and  I  think  Pauline  ought  to  have  a  chance,  too ; 
so  that 's  why  I  'm  trying  to  find  the  gold  which  was  stolen 
from  my  great-grandfather." 

"  It 's  a  boy's  habit  to  be  hopeful  and  striving,"  Uncle  Dick 
replied.  "  I  should  not  wish  you  to  look  at  the  world  with 
my  eyes  yet  a  while.  But  even  when  you  are  trying  for  what 
you  think  would  better  you — even  then  you  can  be  content 
with  what  you  actually  have.  Now  tell  me  all  about  this 
gold  which  vanished  suddenly  and  was  seen  no  more." 

Tom  began  at  the  beginning  and  told  Uncle  Dick  the  whole 
story.  He  took  Mr.  Rapallo  over  the  ground,  and  showed 
the  exact  position  of  the  two  armies  on  the  night  of  the  rob- 
bery. He  had  in  his  pocket  the  map  Nicholas  Paulding  had 
roughly  outlined.  With  the  aid  of  this  he  traced  for  Uncle 
Dick  the  course  of  the  little  stream  which  had  separated  the 
hostile  camps  the  night  before  the  battle,  and  he  pointed  out 
the  stepping-stones  by  means  of  which  a  passage  might  have 
been  had  from  one  bank  to  the  other.  He  gave  Mr.  Rapallo 
all  the  information  he  had  been  able  to  extract  from  the  pa- 
pers gathered  by  Wyllys  Paulding.  He  explained  all  the 
circumstances  of  Jeffrey  Kerr's  taking  the  bags  containing 
the  two  thousand  guineas,  and  of  his  escape  with  them.  He 
dwelt  on  the  fact  that  after  the  second  sentinel  had  fired  on 
Kerr,  the  thief  had  never  been  seen  again,  so  far  as  anybody 
knew. 


120  TOM    PAULDING. 

"  In  other  words,"  said  Uncle  Dick,  "  this  man  Kerr  took 
the  money,  ran  outside  our  lines,  and  then  vanished." 

"  That 's  it  exactly,"  Tom  replied. 

"And  when  he  vanished,  the  gold  disappeared  too,"  Mr. 
Rapallo  continued.  "  You  are  right  in  calling  this  a  puzzle. 
It  is  a  puzzle  of  the  most  puzzling  kind." 

"  And  there  is  one  question  which  puzzles  me  quite  as  much 
as  the  fate  of  the  thief  or  the  disappearance  of  the  gold,"  Tom 
declared ;  "  and  that  's  why  it  was  that  my  grandfather  sud- 
denly gave  up  the  search." 

"That  is  odd,"  Uncle  Dick  confessed;  "very  odd,  indeed. 
It  will  bear  a  good  deal  of  thinking  over." 

"  And  I  want  you  to  help  me,  Uncle  Dick,"  pleaded  Tom. 

"  Of  course  I  will,"  replied  Mr.  Rapallo,  heartily.  "  I  '11  do 
what  I  can — that  is,  if  I  can  do  anything.  Have  you  told 
any  of  the  boys  here  about  this  ? " 

"  They  know  I  'm  going  to  try  to  find  it,"  Tom  replied, 
"but  that 's  all  they  do  know.  I  thought  at  first  of  consult- 
ing Harry  Zachary, — he  has  such  good  ideas.  He 's  just  been 
reading  a  book  called  the  '  Last  Days  of  Pompeii,'  and  he 
wants  us  to  make  a  big  volcano  for  the  Fourth  of  July  and 
have  an  eruption  of  Vesuvius  after  it  gets  dark,  and  then 
by  the  light  of  the  burning  mountain  two  of  us  will  fight 
a  duel  with  stilettos — that  's  a  kind  of  Italian  bowie-knife, 
is  n't  it  ? " 

"Yes,"  answered  Uncle  Dick,  smiling.  " I  think  that  is  a 
good  scheme.  This  young  friend  of  yours  seems  to  have  ex- 
cellent ideas,  as  you  say.     Why  did  n't  you  consult  him  ? " 


SANTA  CLAUS  BRINGS  A   SUGGESTION.  121 

"  Well/'  Tom  answered,  "  his  head  's  all  right,  but  he  is  n't 
very  strong,  and  he  gets  seared  easily.  Besides,  his  father 
thinks  he  's  delicate,  and  he  won't  always  let  him  out.  His 
father  's  a  tailor — that  is,  he  manufactures  clothes.  Harry 
says  he  has  more  than  a  hundred  hands." 

"  Quite  a  Briareus,"  said  Mr.  Rapallo.  "And  is  he  the  only 
one  you  could  take  into  confidence  ? " 

"  Oh,  no,"  Tom  responded  ;  "  there  's  Cissy  Smith." 

"I  don't  think  I  would  advise  you  to  consult  a  girl,"  said 
his  uncle. 

"Cissy  is  n't  a  girl,"  Tom  explained.  "' Cissy'  is  simply 
short  for  Cicero.  His  full  name  is  Marcus  Cicero  Smith, 
Junior." 

"  Then  I  think  I  must  know  his  father,"  Mr.  Rapallo  de- 
clared ;  "  that  is,  if  he  's  a  doctor,  and  if  he  used  to  live  in 
Denver." 

"  He  did,"  said  Tom. 

"  And  why  did  n't  you  consult  him  ? "  asked  his  uncle. 

"Well,"  Tom  explained,  a  little  hesitatingly,  "I  don't 
know  that  I  can  tell,  for  sure.  I  like  Cissy.  He  's  my  best 
friend.  But  he  's  so  sharp,  and  he  sits  down  on  one  so  hard. 
And  besides,  I  thought  I  'd  rather  do  all  the  work  myself." 

They  were  then  walking  along  the  upper  terrace  of  Morn- 
ingside  Park. 

Mr.  Rapallo  glanced  down  into  the  park  below  and  said, 
"  Is  n't  that  boy  making  signals  to  you  ? " 

Tom  leaned  over  and  caught  sight  of  Corkscrew  Lott,  who 

was  waving  his  hands  as  if  signaling. 
11 


122 


TOM  PAULDING. 


As  Tom  came  to  the  edge  of  the  parapet,  Lott  whistled 


Tom  promptly  answered 


"  That  sounds  like  a  rallying-call,"  said  Mr.  Rapallo,  smil- 
ing. 

"We  Ve  got  a  secret  society,  called  the  Black  Band,  and 
that  "s  our  signal,"  Tom  explained. 

They  walked  a  little  way  down  toward  Lott,  and  stood  still 
until  he  came  up.     Then  Tom  presented  him  to  Mr.  Rapallo. 

Lott  hardly  waited  for  this  introduction,  he  was  so  anxious 
to  communicate  his  intelligence. 

"  Have  you  heard  the  news  ? "  he  asked,  twisting  with  im- 
patience. 

"  What  news?"  Tom  returned. 

"  Then  you  have  n't  heard  it,"  Lott  went  on,  gleefully.  "  It 
was  found  only  this  forenoon,  and  I  was  almost  the  first  to 
see  it," 

"  What  was  found  ? "  asked  Tom,  with  a  sudden  chill  as  he 
feared  that  possibly  some  one  else  had  discovered  the  treasure 
he  was  after. 

"  It 's  the  skeleton  of  a  soldier  who  was  killed  during  the 
Revolutionary  War,"  Lott  explained. 

Uncle  Dick  and  Tom  looked  at  each  other  with  the  same 
thought  in  their  minds. 


CORKSCREW         TELLS     UNCLE    DICK    AND    TOM    OF    THE    DISCOVERY    BY    THE    AQUEDUCT 
LABORERS. 


SANTA  GLAUS  BKINGS  A   SUGGESTION.  125 

"  Where  was  this  discovered  f "  Mr.  Rapallo  asked. 

"  Over  there/'  Corkscrew  answered,  pointing  toward  the 
Hudson  River  behind  them.  "  The  men  at  work  there  on  the 
new  aqueduct  dug  up  the  bones.  It  was  the  skeleton  of  a 
British  soldier." 

"A  British  soldier?"  echoed  Mr.  Rapallo.  "How  do  you 
know  that  ? » 

"  Oh,  everybody  says  so,"  Lott  answered.  "  Besides,  they 
found  things  with  him  that  prove  it." 

"  Did  they  find  any  money  ? "  cried  Tom,  anxiously. 

"  Did  n't  they  though  ? "  Corkscrew  replied. 

Again  Tom  and  Uncle  Dick  exchanged  glances,  and  their 
faces  fell. 

"Do  you  know  how  much  they  found?"  inquired  Mr.  Ra- 
pallo. 

"Of  course  I  do,"  Corkscrew  answered.  "I  went  up  at 
once,  and  I  asked  all  about  it,  and  I  've  seen  all  the  money. 
There  are  two  silver  shillings  and  a  silver  sixpence  and  a  cop- 
per penny — a  great  big  one  with  the  head  of  George  the 
Second  on  it." 

"  Is  that  all  ? "  Tom  demanded. 

"  Is  n't  that  enough  ? "  Lott  returned.  "  How  much  do  you 
think  a  British  soldier  ought  to  have  had  ? " 

Tom  drew  a  breath  of  relief.     "If  that  is  all,"  he  began — 

"  How  do  you  know  it  was  a  British  soldier  ? "  Mr.  Rapallo 
repeated.  "  An  American  soldier  might  have  had  two-and- 
six  in  silver  and  a  penny  in  copper." 

"  The  money  was  n't  all  that  was  found,"  Lott  explained. 


126  TOM   PAULDING. 

"  I  thought  yon  said  it  was,"  Tom  interrupted. 

"  I  did  n't  say  anything  of  the  sort/'  Lott  replied.  "  I  said 
that  was  all  the  money ;  but  they  found  something  else — the 
buttons  of  his  uniform ;  and  Dr.  Smith,  who  has  collected 
buttons  —  I  'm  going  to  begin  a  collection  at  once ;  I  can  get 
one  from  a  '  sparrow '  policeman,  and  I  Ve  a  cousin  in  the 
fire  department  at  Boston,  and — " 

"  Never  mind  about  the  collection  you  are  going  to  begin," 
said  Mr.  Rapallo ;   "  tell  us  about  these  buttons  now." 

"  Well,"  Lott  returned,  "  Dr.  Smith  recognized  them  at 
once ;  he  said  that  they  were  worn  in  1776  by  the  Seventeenth 
Light  Dragoons ;  and  that  that  was  one  of  the  British  regi- 
ments which  took  part  in  the  Battle  of  Harlem  Heights." 

"  And  what  did  Dr.  Smith  say  about  the  death  of  the  poor 
fellow  whose  bones  have  been  found  ? "  asked  Uncle  Dick. 

"  He  said  it  was  easy  to  see  how  the  man  had  been  killed, 
and  he  took  a  big  musket-ball  out  of  the  skull,"  said  Lott. 
"  He  thinks  that  in  the  hurry  of  the  fighting  some  of  the  other 
soldiers  must  have  thrown  a  little  earth  hastily  over  the  body, 
and  left  it  where  it  fell ;  and  so,  in  time,  with  the  washing  of 
the  rain  and  the  settling  of  the  dust  and  the  growing  of  the 
grass,  somehow  the  skeleton  got  to  be  well  under  ground. 
Why,  it  was  at  least  six  feet  down,  where  they  dug  it  out." 

"  Are  you  sure  that  they  did  not  find  anything  else  with  it  ? " 
Mr.  Rapallo  inquired. 

"  Certain  sure  !  "  said  Corkscrew.  "  I  asked  every  one  of 
them  all  about  it.  Oh,  that 's  all  right :  if  there  'd  been  any- 
thing else,  I  'd  have  found  out  all  about  it.     Maybe  the  men 


SANTA   CLAUS   BRINGS   A   SUGGESTION.  127 

are  there  still ;  you  can  go  and  ask  them  yourself,  and  I  can 
show  you  exactly  where  the  bones  were." 

Mr.  Rapallo  and  Tom  Paulding  walked  with  Lott  to  the 
place  where  the  men  were  yet  at  work  sinking  a  deep  ditch  for 
one  of  the  huge  pipes  of  the  new  aqueduct.  The  laborers  had 
advanced  at  least  ten  feet  beyond  the  spot  in  which  the  skele- 
ton had  been  discovered,  but  Corkscrew  pointed  out  the  place. 

Uncle  Dick  asked  the  foreman  a  few  questions,  and  then 
he  and  Tom  started  for  home. 

"  I  don't  see  how  that  can  be  the  skeleton  of  your  thief, 
Tom,"  said  Mr.  Rapallo,  as  they  walked  on  after  parting  with 
Lott. 

"I  'm  sure  that  Kerr  could  n't  have  got  to  the  place  where 
those  bones  were  found,"  Tom  declared.  "  Kerr  did  n't  reach 
the  British  camp,  and  that  place  is  well  inside  their  hues. 
Besides,  he  could  n't  have  had  on  the  uniform  of  the  Seven- 
teenth Light  Dragoons,  you  know ;  he  was  an  assistant  pay- 
master in  our  army.  And  then  those  two  shillings,  and  that 
sixpence,  and  that  penny — there  was  more  than  that  in  my 
great-grandfather's  money-bags  !  No ;  this  can't  be  the  man 
we  're  after." 

"  Then  you  are  no  nearer  the  solution  of  your  problem,"  said 
Uncle  Dick.  "  I  'm  afraid  it  will  take  you  a  long  while  to  work 
it  out.     I  'd  help  you  if  I  could,  but  I  don't  see  how  I  can." 

'*  It  helps  me  just  to  have  some  one  to  talk  to  about  it," 
Tom  urged. 

"  Oh,  you  can  talk  to  me  till  you  are  tired,"  Uncle  Dick 
laughed.     "  The  mystery  of  the  thing  fascinates  me,  and  I 


128  TOM   PAULDING. 

shall  be  glad  to  talk  about  it.  But  you  will  have  to  do  the 
hard  thinking  yourself.  'Be  sure  you're  right — then  go 
ahead  ! '  That  was  a  good  motto  for  Davy  Crockett,  and  it 
is  n't  a  bad  one  for  any  other  American." 

"I  wish  I  only  knew  which  way  to  go/'  said  Tom;  "I  'd 
go  ahead  with  all  my  might." 

"  Put  on  your  thinking-cap,"  remarked  Mr.  Rapallo,  as  they 
mounted  the  flight  of  steps  leading  from  the  street  to  the 
knoll  on  which  stood  Mrs.  Paulding's  house.  "  Sleep  on  it. 
To-morrow  is  Christmas,  you  know ;  perhaps  in  the  morning 
you  will  find  an  idea  in  your  stocking." 

Generally  Tom  was  a  late  sleeper,  like  most  boys,  and  it 
was  not  easy  to  rouse  him  from  his  slumbers.  But  on  Christ- 
mas morning,  by  some  strange  chance,  he  waked  very  early. 
Despite  his  utmost  endeavor  he  could  not  go  to  sleep  again. 
He  lay  there  wide  awake,  and  he  recalled  the  events  of  the 
preceding  day.  Soon  he  began  to  turn  over  in  his  mind  the 
circumstances  connected  with  Jeffrey  Kerr's  mysterious  dis- 
appearance. 

Suddenly  he  sprang  from  his  bed  and  lighted  the  gas. 
Without  waiting  to  dress,  he  pulled  out  the  box  of  papers 
and  searched  among  them  for  a  certain  newspaper.  When 
he  had  found  this  he  read  a  marked  paragraph  with  almost 
feverish  eagerness.  Then  he  put  the  paper  away  again  in 
the  box,  and  dressed  himself  as  rapidly  as  he  could. 

By  the  time  he  got  down-stairs,  creeping  softly  that  he 
might  not  disturb  his  mother,  it  was  just  daybreak. 


SANTA   CLAUS   BEINGS   A   SUGGESTION.  129 

At  the  foot  of  the  stairs  he  met  the  Careful  Katie,  who  was 
just  baek  from  early  mass. 

"  Holy  Saints  defend  us !  "  she  cried.  "  Is  that  the  boy,  or 
his  banshee  ? " 

"  Merry  Christmas,  Katie  !  "  he  said,  as  he  put  on  his  over- 
coat. 

"  An'  is  it  goin'  out  ye  are  ? "  she  asked  in  astonishment. 
"For  why?  Ye  can't  buy  no  more  Christmas  presents — 
the  stores  is  n't  open,  even  them  that  ain't  closed  the  day." 

"I  've  got  to  go  out  to  see  about  something,"  he  explained. 
"  I  shall  be  baek  in  half  an  hour." 

"  It  '11  bring  no  luck  this  goin'  out  in  the  night,  an'  not  to 
church  either,"  said  the  Careful  Katie,  as  she  opened  the  door 
for  him. 

An  hour  or  so  later,  when  Mr.  Rapallo  was  dressing  lei- 
surely, there  came  a  tap  at  his  door. 

"  Who  's  there  ? "  he  cried. 

"Merry  Christmas,  Uncle  "Dick!"  Tom  answered.  "You 
were  right,  and  Santa  Claus  has  given  me  a  suggestion." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  his  uncle,  opening  the  door. 

"  I  have  found  an  idea  in  my  stocking,"  Tom  explained ; 
"  or  at  least  it  came  to  me  this  morning  early,  and  I  've  been 
out  to  see  about  it.     And  I  think  I  've  made  a  discovery." 

"  Produce  your  discovery !  "  Uncle  Dick  responded,  noting 
the  excitement  in  the  boy's  voice  and  the  light  in  his  eyes. 

"  I  think  I  know  what  became  of  Jeffrey  Kerr,"  said  Tom ; 
"  and  if  I  'm  right,  then  I  know  where  the  stolen  gold  is  !  " 


CHAPTER  XII. 


THE   FATE    OF   JEFFREY   KERR. 


NCLE  DICK  looked  at  Tom  for  a  moment. 
Then  he  whistled  gently. 

"If  you  have  found  out  that,  then 
you  have  the  finest  Christmas  present  of 
us  all." 

"  I  think  I  have,"  Tom  declared. 
"  I  'm  very  glad  to  hear  it,"  his  uncle  responded,  heartily. 
"  Now,  sit  down  here  and  tell  me  all  about  it." 

Tom  took  a  chair  and  sat  down  beside  Mr.  Rapallo. 
'■  I  think  I  know  where  the  thief  is,"  the  boy  began,  "  and 
I  hope  I  know  where  the  gold  is ;  though,  of  course,  I  'in  not 
sure.     After  all,  it  is  only  a  guess,  but  still — " 

"  If  you  express  all  your  doubts  before  you  let  me  have  all 
the  facts,"  interrupted  Uncle  Dick,  "it  will  be  a  long  time 
before  I  can  see  what  you  are  driving  at.  Better  begin  at 
the  beginning." 

"  The  real  beginning,"  Tom  answered,  "  was  when  I  got  to 
looking  at  this  mystery  just  as  if  it  was  a  problem  in  alge- 
bra.    Jeffrev  Kerr  was  my  or.     He  was  n't  exactly  an  un- 


THE   FATE   OF   JEFFREY   KERR. 


131 


known  quantity,  but  there  was  a  lot  about  him  I  did  n't  know. 
I  set  down  the  facts,  and  then  tried  to  work  out  my  x — that 
is,  to  see  what  had  become  of  Kerr.     If  what  my  grandfather 


"'I   THINK    1    KNOW    WHERE   THE   THIEF   IS,'    THE    1JOY    BEGAN." 

had  found  out  and  written  down  was  right,  then  the  thief 
had  vanished  suddenly  after  he  had  got  past  the  sentries  of 
Washington's  army.  Now,  this  morning  when  I  was  waking 
up  I  found  that  I  was  thinking  about  this  problem,  just  as  if 


132  TOM    PAULDING. 

I  had  been  at  work  on  it  in  my  sleep,  puzzling  it  out  in  a 
dream.  I  was  still  half  asleep  when  I  found  that  one 
thought  kept  on  coming  back  and  coming  back.  And  I 
suppose  that  thought  was  the  present  Santa  Claus  had 
brought  me  during  the  night,  as  you  said  he  would." 

"  I  did  n't  say  that  he  would,  for  sure,"  said  Mr.  Rapallo. 
"  I  hoped  that  perhaps  he  might.  What  was  it  that  he  told 
you?" 

"  It  seems  so  simple,"  Tom  continued,  "  that  I  don't  see 
how  I  ever  came  to  miss  seeing  it  for  so  long." 

"  The  greatest  ideas  are  generally  the  simplest,"  Uncle  Dick 
remarked,  encotu-agingly.  "You  remember  that  little  egg 
trick  of  Columbus's?" 

"And  it  never  seemed  to  me  quite  fair  either,"  Tom 
returned,  "because — " 

"  Don't  let  's  discuss  that  now,"  his  uncle  interposed. 
"  What  was  your  new  idea  ? " 

"  Well,"  Tom  went  on,  "  I  found  myself  thinking  that  as 
Kerr  had  left  the  American  army,  and  as  he  had  n't  got  to 
the  British  army,  and  as  he  had  n't  ever  been  seen  anywhere 
since  that  night,  or  heard  of  by  anybody, — why,  perhaps  the 
shot  the  sentinel  had  fired  at  him  had  wounded  him  badly — 
you  remember  my  great-grandfather's  account  said  there  was 
a  cry  of  pain  after  that  second  shot  ? " 

"  I  remember,"  said  Uncle  Dick. 

"  And  if  the  shot  had  wounded  him  badly,"  Tom  continued, 
"that  perhaps  he  had  fallen  dead  somewhere  between  the 
lines,  and  that  perhaps  somehow  his  body  had  got  covered 


THE   FATE   OF   JEFFREY   KERR.  133 

over  or  concealed  or  something  of  that  sort,  and  so  it  might 
perhaps  be  there  now." 

"  I  understand,"  Mr.  Rapallo  remarked,  as  Tom  paused  for 
a  moment  to  see  if  his  uncle  were  following  him.  "  If  the 
body  was  hidden  then,  there  is  no  reason  why  it  might  not 
be  there  to  this  day.  But  where  can  it  be  hidden  ?  That 
will  be  a  difficult  question  to  solve." 

Tom  smiled  cheerfully.  "Well,"  he  said,  "of  course  I 
don't  know  that  1 've  found  out  that,  certain  sure ;  but  1 've 
got  another  idea  about  that,  too." 

"  Produce  idea  number  two  !  "  ordered  Uncle  Dick. 

"  As  soon  as  I  had  really  got  hold  of  the  first  idea — the  one 
that  possibly  Kerr  was  wounded  by  that  shot  and  that  his 
body  might  be  there  now — I  waked  right  up,"  Tom  re- 
sponded ;  "  and  it  was  when  I  was  wide  awake  that  I  won- 
dered where  we  could  look  for  Kerr's  body,  with  the  gold  on 
it,  perhaps.  Suddenly  it  struck  me  that  as  Kerr  was  trying 
to  escape  to  the  British,  and  as  he  knew  the  country, — he  'd 
been  living  up  near  here  at  an  old  mill  for  months  before, — 
why,  he  'd  naturally  try  some  kind  of  a  short  cut.  There 
was  a  little  brook  separating  those  two  camps,  and  it  had 
been  raining  hard  all  day, — I  looked  at  the  old  newspaper  to 
make  sure  of  that,  but  I  believe  it  nearly  always  does  rain 
hard  after  there  's  been  a  battle, —  and  so  I  thought  the  brook 
would  be  high,  and  Kerr  was  smart  enough  to  know  that  it 
would  be,  and  so  perhaps  he  'd  make  for  those  stepping- 
stones.  You  remember,  I  once  showed  them  to  you  marked 
on  the  map  my  great-grandfather  made  ? " 
12 


134  TOM   PAULDING. 

"  Yes,  I  remember,"  Mr.  Rapallo  replied ;  "  and  I  think  I 
see  where  you  are  going.  I  should  n't  wonder  if  you  were  on 
the  right  track  at  last." 

Tom's  eyes  lighted  again  with  pleasure  as  he  continued : 

"  I  got  out  that  map,  and  I  looked  to  see  if  it  would  help 
me.  Well,  the  place  is  marked  where  the  first  sentry  stood 
that  fired  at  Kerr,  and  then  the  place  is  marked  where  the 
second  sentry  stood  when  he  fired ;  so  I  drew  a  line  from  one 
to  the  other,  and  I  thought  that  would  show  which  way  Kerr 
was  going.  Then  I  stretched  out  that  line  toward  the  British 
troops  to  see  where  he  would  cross  the  brook ;  and  I  found 
that  if  he  had  kept  on  the  same  way  he  started,  then  he  was 
running  straight  for  those  stepping-stones  which  my  great- 
grandfather had  marked  in  his  plan." 

"  And  supposing  you  are  right  ? "  Uncle  Dick  queried. 

"Supposing  I  'm  right,"  Tom  responded,  "and  supposing 
he  was  badly  wounded,  perhaps  when  he  got  to  those  step- 
ping-stones and  tried  to  cross,  he  slipped  and  fell  in.  You 
see  the  brook  was  up,  and  maybe  the  water  was  over  the  top 
of  some  of  the  stones.     It  was  a  very  dark  night,  and  he 

t 

was  running  for  his  life,  and  perhaps  he  slipped  and  fell  into 
the  pool." 

"Well?"  said  Mr.  Rapallo. 

"  Well,  if  he  did,"  Tom  went  on  —  "  if  he  did  fall,  and  he  was 
wounded,  and  the  current  was  strong,  and  he  had  all  that  heavy 
gold  weighing  him  down,  perhaps  he  was  drowned  there." 

"  If  that  happened,"  Uncle  Dick  inquired,  "  why  was  n't  the 
body  found  next  day?" 


THE   FATE   OF   JEFFREY   KERR.  135 

"  I  thought,"  Tom  suggested,  "  that  perhaps  the  strength 
of  the  current  might  have  rolled  the  body  into  the  deepest 
part  of  the  pool,  and  then  the  sand  and  dirt  and  things  which 
the  brook  was  carrying  down  would  be  caught  by  the  body ; 
and  perhaps  there  would  be  enough  of  them  to  cover  it  up 
completely.  And  if  there  was,  why,  then  perhaps  the  gold 
is  there  now." 

"  With  the  skeleton  of  the  thief  guarding  it  for  you,"  said 
Mr.  Rapallo. 

"What  do  you  think  about  this  idea?"  Tom  asked,  anx- 
iously. 

"  I  think,"  his  uncle  replied,  "  that  you  are  probably  right. 
I  see  that  your  story  has  a  'perhaps'  in  almost  every  sen- 
tence. Perhaps  the  man  was  wounded,  perhaps  he  tried  to 
cross  at  the  stepping-stones,  perhaps  he  slipped,  perhaps  he 
was  drowned  partly  by  the  weight  of  the  guineas  he  had 
stolen,  perhaps  the  brook  washed  down  sand  and  earth 
enough  to  cover  him,  and  perhaps  nobody  has  ever  found 
him.  Here  are  perhapses  enough  and  to  spare,  you  must 
admit." 

As  his  uncle  paused,  Tom's  face  fell.  This  did  not  seem  so 
cordial  an  acquiescence  as  he  had  hoped  for. 

"But  your  theory  at  least  fits  all  the  facts  as  we  know 
them,"  said  Mr.  Rapallo,  cheerfully.  "  It  seems  to  me  excel- 
lent as  a  '  working  hypothesis,'  so  to  speak.  At  least  it  may 
very  well  explain  the  mystery  of  Kerr's  disappearance.  And 
if  I  were  you  I  should  go  ahead  on  this  line,  and  fight  it  out 
if  it  takes  all  winter." 


136  TOM   PAULDING. 

"  Will  you  help  me  ? "  asked  Tom,  eagerly. 

"  Of  course  I  will,"  his  uncle  responded,  heartily.  "  What- 
ever I  can  do,  I  will.  First  of  all,  have  you  any  idea  where 
the  current  would  have  taken  the  body  of  the  thief  ? " 

"  Yes,"  Tom  answered,  quickly ;  "  I  think  I  know — at  least 
I  Ve  been  guessing  at  it.  On  the  map  the  pool  is  shaped 
somewhat  like  a  figure  eight,  with  the  stepping-stones  at  the 
middle  in  the  narrow  part,  and  with  the  lower  end  swung  on 
one  side  in  a  sort  of  bay ;  and  the  brook  goes  on  out  of  one 
corner  of  this  sort  of  bay.  Now,  it  seems  to  me  that  if  Kerr 
slipped  off  the  stepping-stones,  he  probably  rolled  to  the  mid- 
dle of  this  lower  pool — and  that  he  is  there  now." 

"Do  you  think  that  any  one  else  has  found  his  body?" 
asked  Uncle  Dick. 

"No,"  said  Tom.  "At  least  I  think  nobody  has  ever 
thought  of  digging  there.  The  brook  has  dried  up  only  since 
they  began  to  open  the  streets  through  here.  I  showed  you 
where  the  stepping-stones  are,  and  the  little  pool  just  below 
them  is  still  to  be  traced  out — at  least  I  can  do  it  now  I  've 
seen  the  map.  The  trouble  is  that  the  pool  is  in  a  vacant 
block  which  they  have  begun  to  fill  in.  The  lots  are  'way 
down  below  the  level  of  the  street.  They  've  done  some  fill- 
ing in,  and  they  are  going  to  do  more  soon.  I  went  there  to 
see  it  just  now,  and  I  think  I  could  see  the  edge  of  the  pool 
distinctly.  But  the  part  where  I  guessed  the  guineas  were 
has  been  filled  in  twenty  feet  at  least." 

"Does  a  street  run  across  it?"  Mr.  Rapallo  inquired. 
"Foolish  people  used  to  think  that  the  streets  of  great  cities 


THE   FATE  OF   JEFFREY   KERR.  137 

were  paved  with  gold ;  and  it  would  be  curious  if  there  were 
really  treasure  hidden  down  below  their  surfaces." 

"  This  is  n't  a  street/'  Tom  explained ;  "  it 's  just  the  ordi- 
nary filling  in,  with  rubbish  and  dirt  and  old  brickbats  and 
ashes  and  things.  It  starts  about  the  middle  of  the  block 
and  makes  a  sort  of  bow-window  into  the  middle  of  the 
vacant  lots." 

"  Then  how  are  you  going  to  get  out  the  golden  guineas  ? " 
asked  Uncle  Dick. 

"  That 's  just  what  I  don't  know,"  Tom  answered.  "  I  'm 
counting  on  you  to  help  me  out  there." 

"I  've  mined  for  gold  in  California,  and  for  silver  in  the 
Black  Hills,  and  for  diamonds  in  South  Africa,"  Mr.  Rapallo 
replied,  with  an  amused  smile ;  "  but  I  never  supposed  that 
I  should  sink  a  shaft  in  the  streets  of  New  York  in  search  of 
buried  treasure.  It  will  be  a  novel  experience,  at  any  rate. 
But  we  must  see  what  we  can  do.  This  afternoon,  if  you 
will  take  me  over  to  the  place  where  the  pool  was,  I  '11  have 
a  look  around." 

Tom  arose  to  go.  When  he  had  opened  the  door  he  hesi- 
tated and  then  said :  "  If  you  don't  mind,  Uncle  Dick,  I  'd 
rather  we  did  n't  say  anything  about  this  <  working  hypothe- 
sis '  until  we  know  whether  it  will  work  or  not." 

"  Certainly  not,"  Mr.  Rapallo  replied.  "  It  is  always  best 
to  say  nothing  till  you  have  something  to  show.  '  When  in 
doubt,  hold  your  tongue ' —  there  's  a  good  motto." 

Then  he  came  out  into  the  hall  to  Tom,  and  they  went 
down-stairs  together  to  their  Christmas  breakfast. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


CHRISTMAS   MORNING   AND   CHRISTMAS   NIGHT. 


N  Mrs.  Paulding's  family  it  was  the  tradi- 
tion to  keep  Christinas  and  to  make  pres- 
ents ;  but  the  moderate  circumstances  of 
the  household  prevented  the  purchase  of 
costly  gifts.  Nor  was  the  preparation  of 
presents  made  by  the  giver  allowed  to  be- 
come burdensome.  There  are  homes  where  the  pressure  of 
Christmas  giving  has  crushed  out  the  proper  Christmas  feel- 
ing,— where  the  obligation  is  accepted  of  providing  every 
other  member  of  the  household  with  a  present  which  is  often 
useless  and  which  is  always  expensive.  Nothing  of  this  sort 
was  seen  at  Mrs.  Paulding's  fireside.  With  gentle  tact  she 
found  out  early  in  the  fall  what  were  the  cherished  desires 
of  her  children ;  and,  in  so  far  as  her  means  might  allow, 
she  gratified  these  at  Christmas.  They  in  turn  consulted 
each  other  and  saved  up  their  pocket-money  that  they  might 
give  her  something  likely  to  be  useful. 

On  this  Christinas  morning  there  was  the  added  interest 
of  Uncle  Dick's  being  in  the  house.     Just  what  to  give  him 


CHRISTMAS   MORNING   AND   CHRISTMAS   NIGHT.       139 

had  greatly  puzzled  Tom  and  Polly,  but  they  had  at  last  hit 
upon  things  they  thought  their  uncle  would  welcome.  Polly 
made  him  a  "  housewife  "  to  contain  needles  and  thread  and 
buttons  and  tapes,  and  a  tiny  pah'  of  scissors. 

She  explained  to  Tom  that  if  Uncle  Dick  ever  went  back 
to  South  Africa,  or  even  out  West  again  among  those  In- 
dians, she  thought  the  needles  and  the  other  accompanying 
tools  of  woman's  craft  might  be  very  useful. 

"If  the  real  Africans,"  she  said,  "are  anything  like  the 
pictures  in  my  jog.,  I  don't  believe  that  Uncle  Dick  could 
find  one  of  them  to  do  his  sewing  for  him.  They  can't  have 
had  much  practice  in  making  buttonholes.  If  those  pictures 
are  right,  then  I  should  n't  wonder  if  there  was  n't  a  single 
sewing-machine  in  all  South  Africa.  So,  you  see,  he  might 
have  to  mend  his  own  clothes  some  day  and  sew  on  buttons. 
Of  course  he  's  only  a  man  and  he  would  n't  do  it  well ;  but, 
all  the  same,  I  think  he  ought  not  to  go  away  again  without 
needle  and  thread." 

Mr.  Rapallo  had  told  them  that  he  never  knew  how  long 
he  would  be  able  to  stay  with  them.  He  might,  at  any  time, 
be  called  away  suddenly ;  and  if  he  once  went,  he  could  not 
guess  when  he  should  get  back. 

Tom  had  borne  in  mind  this  possibility  of  his  uncle's  trav- 
eling, and  he  had  gone  over  to  Cissy  Smith's,  whose  father 
had  given  him  a  lathe  the  year  before ;  and  with  Cissy's  as- 
sistance Tom  had  turned  a  box  large  enough  to  hold  a  few 
of  the  indispensable  effects  of  a  traveler. 

When  Tom  and  his  uncle  came  down  that  Christmas  morn- 


140  TOM   PAULDING. 

ing,  they  found  Mrs.  Paulding  and  Pauline  waiting  for  them 
at  the  breakfast- table ;  and  the  presents  were  placed  at  the 
plate  of  each  member  of  the  household. 

Mrs.  Paulding  was  always  pleased  with  what  her  children 
gave  her;  and  she  had  interpreted  their  desires  so  sympa- 
thetically that  they  were  sure  to  be  delighted  with  her  pres- 
ents to  them. 

Uncle  Dick  thanked  Pauline  for  the  housewife  and  Tom 
for  the  box. 

"What  do  you  suppose  I  have  for  you?"  he  asked.  Per- 
haps he  had  noticed  a  slight  shadow  of  disappointment  on 
their  faces  when  they  failed  to  find  by  their  plates  any  gift 
from  him. 

"I  don't  know/'  said  Tom,  interested  in  the  presents  in 
spite  of  his  excitement  over  his  "  working  hypothesis  "  as  to 
the  whereabouts  of  the  stolen  guineas. 

"  But  I  'm  sure  it  will  be  simply  lovely,"  volunteered  Paul- 
ine. 

"Well,"  said  Uncle  Dick,  "for  a  long  while  I  could  not 
find  out  what  any  of  you  wanted ;  but  at  last  I  heard  Polly 
say  that  she  wished  she  was  rich  enough  to  buy  her  mother 
a  sewing-machine,  because  there  were  so  many  things  she 
wanted  to  make  for  herself.  So  I  have  got  a  sewing-machine 
for  Polly ;  it  is  now  upstairs  in  her  room." 

"  Oh,  Uncle  !  "  cried  Polly.  "  Thank  you  ever  so  much !  " 
and  she  jumped  from  her  chair  and  ran  around  and  kissed 
him. 

"And  one  day,"  Uncle  Dick  resumed,  "when  Tom  and  I 


CHRISTMAS   MORNING  AND   CHRISTMAS   NIGHT.      141 

were  walking'  by  the  water,  I  heard  him  say  that  he  wished 
he  had  a  telescope  to  look  up  and  down  the  stream.  Now,  a 
telescope  is  not  so  useful  as  a  field-glass ;  and  if  Tom  will 
look  under  his  chair  he  will  find  a  field-glass  through  which 
he  can  see  a  good  many  miles  up  the  Hudson." 

After  Tom  had  thanked  him,  Mr.  Rapallo  turned  to  his 
sister  and  said,  "  The  present  I  hoped  to  have  for  you,  Mary, 
is  not  ready  yet.  I  may  have  it  by  New  Year's — and  I  may 
have  to  go  after  it.  But  I  think  you  will  like  it  when  you 
get  it,  and — " 

"  I  am  sure  I  shall,  Richard,"  was  Mrs.  Paulding's  response. 

"And  until  you  do  get  it,"  Uncle  Dick  continued,  "I 
sha'n't  tell  you  anything  at  all  about  it." 

"But — "  Polly  began,  with  a  keen  disappointment  de- 
picted in  her  face. 

"But"  her  uncle  interrupted,  "you  will  have  to  possess 
your  soul  in  patience,  for  I  shall  not  give  you  a  hint  about  it 
until  you  see  it." 

"  An'  quite  right,  too,"  said  the  Brilliant  Conversationalist, 
who  was  bringing  in  the  buckwheat  cakes.  "The  child  may 
be  sure  that  whatever  you  buy,  Mr.  Richard,  will  be  beauti- 
ful. See  what  I  found  in  me  kitchen  this  mornin' "  5  and 
she  produced  a  pair  of  rather  startling  ear-rings  that  Uncle 
Dick  had  bought  for  her. 

After  breakfast  they  all  went  to  church ;  and  after  dinner 
Uncle  Dick  called  Tom  and  took  him  off  for  a  walk. 

"  I  want  you  to  show  me  the  place  where  you  think  Jeffrey 
Kerr  lies  buried,  with  the  gold  he  stole  from  your  great- 


14:2  TOM   PAULDING. 

grandfather  concealed  about  his  skeleton/'  he  said,  as  they 
started  out. 

Tom  led  him  straight  to  the  vacant  lots,  iuto  which  from 
about  the  middle  of  the  block  a  tongue  of  made  land  pro- 
jected. 

"  There 's  where  the  stepping-stones  were,  according  to  this 
map,"  said  Tom,  as  he  handed  the  paper  to  his  uncle.  "  That 
big  boulder  there  used  to  be  one  of  them,  I  think ;  and  as  far 
as  I  can  make  out,  those  two  other  high  rocks  over  there  be- 
longed to  them,  too." 

It  took  Mr.  Rapallo  but  a  short  time  to  familiarize  himself 
with  the  ground  before  him  and  to  identify  it  with  that 
sketched  out  in  the  rough  but  fairly  accurate  map  which  he 
held  in  his  hand.  As  yet  there  was  hardly  a  house  within 
two  or  three  blocks  on  either  side ;  and  in  one  of  the  adjoin- 
ing blocks  also,  below  the  street-level,  it  was  not  difficult  to 
trace  the  course  of  the  brook,  partly  by  the  stones  and  partly 
by  the  stumps  of  the  broken  willows  which  had  lined  its 
banks  here  and  there.  The  outline  of  the  pool  below  the 
stepping-stones  was  less  easy  to  make  out,  but  at  last  Mr. 
Rapallo  and  Tom  were  able  to  identify  its  limits  to  their 
satisfaction. 

"Where  do  you  think  the  deep  part  of  the  pool  was?" 
asked  Uncle  Dick. 

"  Here,"  said  Tom,  as  he  pointed  to  a  stone  which  projected 
a  little  from  the  edge  of  the  peninsula  of  filled  land.  "I 
think  that  is  the  tip  of  a  tall  rock  marked  in  the  map ;  and 
if  it  is,  then  the  deep  part  of  the  pool  was  just  behind  that," 


CHRISTMAS   MORNING   AND   CHRISTMAS   NIGHT.      143 

"  That  is  to  say,"  his  uncle  rejoined,  "  if  the  body  of  Jef- 
frey Ken*  is  here  at  all,  it  is  buried  somewhere  near  the  base 
of  that  stone  ? " 

"  Yes,"  Tom  answered ;   "  don't  you  think  so  ? " 

"  I  think  your  enthusiasm  is  catching,"  Uncle  Dick  replied • 
"  and  now  I  am  here  on  the  spot,  I  begin  to  believe  that  the 
stolen  gold  is  down  there  somewhere,  almost  under  our  feet. 
By  the  way,  how  far  down  do  you  suppose  it  is  ? " 

"  I  've  been  thinking  about  that,"  Tom  returned,  "  and  I 
believe  that  the  skeleton  must  be  several  feet  below  the  level 
of  the  bottom  of  the  old  pool,  as  it  is  now — perhaps  only  a 
foot  or  so,  and  perhaps  three  or  four." 

"And  the  part  of  the  pool  near  the  rock  there  is  buried 
under  at  least  ten  feet  of  dirt,  ashes,  and  all  sorts  of  builder's 
rubbish.  It  won't  be  easy  for  us  to  excavate  this  to  prospect 
for  that  gold." 

"  Suppose  we  go  down  and  look  at  it,"  Tom  suggested. 

His  uncle  started  down  -the  steep  incline  and  the  boy 
followed.  At  the  point  where  the  rock  stood,  the  level 
of  the  lot  was  fully  twenty  feet  below  the  surface  of  the 
street ;  and  farther  down,  nearer  the  river,  it  sloped  away 
still  deeper.  In  the  hollows  here  and  there  the  snow  lin- 
gered, dry  and  harsh  beneath  then*  feet.  The  ground  was 
frozen  hard. 

•'  There  is  no  use  in  our  trying  to  do  anything  here  until 
there  is  a  thaw,"  Mr.  Rapallo  declared.  "In  fact,  I  think 
that  it  will  be  best  to  postpone  our  serious  effort  to  excavate 
until  spring." 


144  TOM   PAULDING. 

"  And  when  spring  comes  will  you  be  here,  Uncle  Dick  ? " 
Tom  asked,  eagerly. 

"  That  's  more  than  I  can  say,  Tom,"  he  answered.  "  It 
depends — well,  it  depends  on  many  things." 

"And  in  spring  how  are  we  going  to  dig  out  all  that 
dirt  ? "  Tom  inquired. 

"I  don't  know  how  we  shall  do  it,"  Mr.  Rapallo  replied. 
"  But  you  will  find  a  way  out  of  that  difficulty,  I  'm  sure. 
What  I  wonder  about  is  whether  we  shall  be  able  to  get  per- 
mission to  dig  here." 

"  Shall  we  have  to  ask  leave  ? "  cried  Tom,  in  great  sur- 
prise. 

"  It  is  n't  our  land,  is  it  ? "  answered  his  uncle. 

"  But  it  is  our  money,"  Tom  urged  in  response. 

Mr.  Rapallo  smiled.  "  The  money  is  yours,  no  doubt,"  he 
said ;  "  but  it  will  be  best  for  you  to  get  the  right  to  see  if  it 
is  buried  here." 

"  And  suppose  we  can't  get  it  ? "  Tom  demanded. 

"  We  '11  discuss  that  when  the  permission  is  refused.  Don't 
cross  the  stream  till  you  get  there.  In  the  mean  time  I  '11 
look  up  the  owner  of  this  land — " 

"  But  I  don't  know  who  owns  it,"  said  Tom. 

"  I  can  find  out  all  about  it,  down-town  to-morrow ;  and 
that 's  the  first  thing  to  do.  It  is  our  duty  at  least  to  try  to 
get  permission  to  enter  on  another  man's  land.  As  you  grow 
older,  Tom,  you  will  find  that  the  short  cut  is  the  straight 
way." 

That  evening,  when  they  were  finishing  their  supper,  there 


CHRISTMAS  MORNING  AND   CHRISTMAS  NIGHT.      145 

came  a  sudden  clang  of  bells  and  the  rattling  rash  of  a  fire- 
engine. 

"  There  's  a  fire ! "  cried  Tom,  with  an  appealing  look  at 
his  mother.  Tom  had  the  American  boy's  intense  fondness 
for  going  to  see  fires ;  but  his  mother  did  not  like  to  have 
him  run  after  the  engine  at  night,  as  many  other  lads  were 
allowed  to  do. 

"I  pity  the  poor  people  whose  house  it  is!"  said  Mrs. 
Paulding,  not  replying  to  Tom's  glance  of  appeal. 

"It  's  a  long  while  since  I  have  seen  a  fire  here,"  Uncle 
Dick  remarked,  rising  from  the  table.  "  I  think  I  shall  go 
and  take  a  look  at  it.     Would  you  like  to  come,  too,  Tom  ? " 

"  Would  n't  I  just "? "  Tom  replied,  as  the  hose-carriage  rat- 
tled past  the  house  in  hot  pursuit  of  its  engine.  "  May  I  go, 
mother  ? " 

"Let  him  come  with  me,"  said  Uncle  Dick.  "I  '11  keep 
guard  over  him,  and  I  '11  return  liim  right  side  up  with  care." 

"  Wrap  yourself  up  well,  Tom,"  said  his  mother. 

"  I  wish  I  was  a  boy  and  could  go  to  fires,"  declared  Paul- 
ine. "  When  I  'm  grown  up  I  shall  live  next  door  to  an  en- 
gine-house, and  I  '11  make  friends  with  the  firemen,  and  when 
there  's  a  great,  big  fire,  I  '11  get  them  to  let  me  ride  on  the 
engine." 

As  Uncle  Dick  and  Tom  were  leaving  the  house,  Mr.  Ra- 
pallo  turned  back  and  said  to  his  sister : 

"  Mary,  don't  be  uneasy  about  this  boy,  and  don't  sit  up  for 
him.     If  there  's  anything  to  see,  I  shall  not  hurry  back,  and 
Tom  will  stay  with  me." 
13 


146 


TOM  PAULDING. 


It  was  lucky  that  Mrs.  Paulding  had  thus  been  warned,  as 
her  brother  and  her  son  returned  to  the  house  long  after 
midnight. 

By  the  fiery  track  of  the  glowing  sparks  which  the  engine 


UNCLE    DICK    AND    TOM    GO    TO    THE    FIRE. 


had  left  behind  it,  Mr.  Rapallo  and  Tom  were  able  to  go 
direct  to  the  conflagration,  one  of  the  largest  ever  seen  on 
that  part  of  Manhattan  Island.  The  fire  had  begun,  no  one 
knew  how,  in  a  new  warehouse,  which  had  recently  been 
completed  at  the  water's  edge,  between  the  railroad  and  a 


CHRISTMAS  MORNING  AND   CHRISTMAS   NIGHT.      147 

narrow  wharf  built  out  into  the  river.  This  building,  half 
filled  with  combustible  goods,  was  blazing  fiercely  when  Uncle 
Dick  and  Tom  came  out  at  the  upper  end  of  the  Riverside 
Drive,  where  they  could  look  down  into  the  fiery  furnace  on 
the  bank  of  the  frozen  river  below. 

Tom  found  Cissy  Smith  standing  there  with  his  father; 
and  while  Dr.  Smith  and  Mr.  Rapallo  renewed  their  acquaint- 
ance, broken  off  since  Uncle  Dick  had  last  been  in  Denver, 
five  years  before,  Cissy  greeted  Tom  heartily. 

"  That 's  a  bully  old  fire,  is  n't  it? "  he  cried. 

"  It 's  the  biggest  I  've  ever  seen/'  Tom  responded. 

From  the  first  the  firemen  seemed  hopeless  of  saving  the 
warehouse  where  the  fire  had  started,  for  the  flames  had 
gained  full  control  over  it  before  a  single  engine  was  able  to 
throw  a  stream  on  it.  There  was  difficulty  in  getting  water, 
as  more  than  one  hydrant  was  frozen  solid ;  it  took  precious 
time  to  thaw  them  out  by  building  bonfires  all  over  them. 
The  center  of  the  river  was-  still  open  and  the  ice  inshore 
was  not  so  thick  that  a  resolute  steamboat  could  not  crush 
through  it.  Soon  after  Tom  and  Cissy  had  taken  their  places 
to  see  the  spectacle,  a  fire-boat  came  up  the  river  and  forced 
its  way  through  the  ice  till  it  stopped  almost  alongside  the 
burning  building.  Leaving  this  boat  to  attend  to  the  ware- 
house, the  firemen  ashore  turned  their  attention  chiefly  to 
preventing  the  spread  of  the  conflagration.  There  was  a 
lumber-yard,  piled  high  with  boards  and  planks,  within  a 
hundred  feet  of  the  blazing  storehouse,  and  the  saving  of  this 
was  a  work  of  great  difficulty.     The  labor  of  the  firemen  was 


148  TOM   PAULDING. 

made  doubly  severe  by  a  chill  wind  which  blew  up  the  river, 
carrying  the  flames  toward  the  tall  piles  of  planks,  scattering 
sparks  over  the  neighboring  houses,  and  freezing  the  water 
almost  as  it  left  the  nozles  of  the  hose.  Despite  the  intense 
heat  of  the  burning  building,  long  icicles  began  to  descend 
from  every  projecting  plank  in  the  yard,  and  the  firemen 
were  soon  clad  in  a  frozen  coat  of  mail,  stiff  and  crackling 
as  the  wearers  went  about  their  work. 

While  the  two  boys  were  standing  there  on  the  hilltop,  en- 
joying the  magnificent  spectacle,  with  no  thought  of  the  cost 
at  which  it  was  provided,  and  accepting  it  as  a  sort  of  unex- 
pected and  superior  Fourth-of-July  celebration,  Corkscrew 
Lott  came  twisting  up  the  hill  toward  them,  as  fast  as  his 
high  boots  would  carry  him.  As  he  drew  near  it  seemed  to 
Tom  that  Lott  was  taller  than  ever. 

"  He  's  getting  on  for  six  feet,"  said  Tom,  involuntarily. 

"  '  111  weeds  grow  apace/  "  returned  Cissy ;  "  at  least  that 's 
what  my  father  says." 

"  I  say,  Cissy,"  cried  Lott,  approaching  hastily,  "  where  's 
your  father  ?  " 

"He  's  here,"  Cissy  answered.     "  What 's  the  matter?" 

"  They  want  the  doctor  quick,  down  at  little  Jimmy  Wig- 
ger's  aunt's,"  Lott  replied. 

"  Who  's  hurt?"  Tom  asked. 

"  It  's  little  Jimmy  himself,"  Lott  responded.  "  His  aunt 
sent  him  out  on  an  errand,  and  he  did  n't  look  sharp,  and 
one  of  the  engines  came  around  a  corner  and  ran  over  him, 
and  they  think  he  's  broken  something  inside." 


CHRISTMAS   MORNING   AND   CHRISTMAS    NIGHT.       149 

Cissy  told  his  father,  and  under  Corkscrew's  guidance  Dr. 
Smith  and  his  son  went  off  to  the  house  of  little  Jimmy's 
aunt. 

Tom  and  Uncle  Dick  stood  watching  the  fire  that  was  leap- 
ing higher  than  ever,  in  despite  of  the  long  curves  of  water 
which  spent  themselves  in  vain  in  their  attack  on  it.  The 
steam  from  the  engines  rose  white  in  the  night  air,  and  the 
ruddy  glare  of  the  fire  colored  the  arching  lines  of  water  that 
the  steamboat  poured  into  the  burning  building. 

"  There  's  a  sort  of  likeness  in  this  operation,"  said  Uncle 
Dick,  "  to  hydraulic  mining.  At  Monotony  Dam,  in  Califor- 
nia, I  have  seen  a  bigger  stream  than  all  those  put  together ; 
and,  when  the  full  head  of  water  was  turned  on,  it  would  eat 
into  the  side  of  a  hill  and  wash  out  the  pay-gravel  by  the 
ton." 

Tom,  being  greatly  interested  by  this  remark,  was  about 
to  ask  for  an  explanation  of  the  methods  of  hydraulic  mining, 
when  his  uncle  turned  to  him  suddenly. 

"  Tom,"  he  said,  hastily,  "  come  to  think  of  it,  that 's  the 
way  you  may  get  at  that  buried  treasure  of  yours." 

"How?"  asked  Tom. 

"  We  '11  turn  on  a  stream  of  water  and  wash  the  guineas 
out  of  that  bank  of  rubbish.  1 7ve  done  a  good  many  odd 
things  in  my  life,  first  and  last,  but  I  confess  it  will  be  a 
novel  experience  to  try  hydraulic  mining  for  gold  right  here 
in  the  streets  of  New  York !  " 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CURLS. 


R.  RAPALLO  and  Tom  were  so  interested 
in  the  fire  that  they  were  very  late  in  get- 
ting to  bed.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life 
Tom  "  heard  the  chimes  at  midnight/'  or 
at  least  he  heard  the  bell  in  the  tower  of  a 
church  near  by  strike  twelve.  It  was  a 
clear  winter  night;  there  was  not  a  cloud  in  the  heavens, 
but  there  was  no  moon,  and  the  sky  was  dark  as  if  the  freez- 
ing wind  had  blown  out  the  stars,  which  twinkled,  chill  and 
remote.  In  this  murk  midnight,  black  and  cold,  the  mighty 
bonfire  by  the  water's  edge  blazed  away,  rolling  dense  masses 
of  smoke  up  the  river  and  affording  a  delightful  spectacle  to 
those  who  were  unthinking  enough  to  forget  its  cost. 

It  was  after  one  o'clock  when  Uncle  Dick  and  Tom  re- 
turned home.  Everybody  had  gone  to  bed  hours  before; 
but  Mrs.  Paulding's  quick  ear  recognized  her  boy's  footstep 
on  the  stairs  as  he  went  up  to  his  room. 

Five  minutes  after  he  entered  the  house  he  was  in  bed  and 
asleep.  Indeed,  it  seemed  as  if  he  was  in  his  first  nap  when 
there  came  a  rap  on  the  door,  and  Katie's  voice  was  heard. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CURLS.  151 

"  Get  up  out  o'  that  bed,  Master  Tom.  Sure  it 's  gettin' 
cold  the  breakfast  is,  an'  it  's  the  buckwheat  cakes  ye  like 
that  ye  're  missin'.  Mr.  Richard  has  been  'atin'  away  this 
last  half  hour." 

Thus  aroused  and  besought,  Tom  got  out  of  bed  and 
dressed  sleepily.  Even  when  he  took  his  seat  at  the  break- 
fast-table he  was  not  yet  wide  awake. 

To  his  great  surprise  Uncle  Dick  looked  as  fresh  as  if  he 
had  had  ten  hours'  rest. 

"  Oh,  Tom,"  cried  Polly,  "you  are  very  late  !  " 

"Better  late  than  never,"  Tom  replied,  cheerfully  but 
drowsily,  as  he  helped  himself  to  the  buckwheat  cakes. 

"  You  've  got  sleep  in  your  eyes  still,"  said  Uncle  Dick. 

"  I  shall  be  all  right  in  a  minute,"  Tom  declared.  "  I  sup- 
pose it  is  the  light  that  makes  my  eyes  blink." 

"I  don't  know  how  you  would  manage  if  you  were  on  a 
long  march,"  Uncle  Dick  went  on,  "when  you  had  to  walk 
twenty  hours  out  of  twenty-four  for  three  or  four  days 
together." 

"  I  could  n't  manage  it  at  all,"  Tom  confessed ;  "  that  is,  not 
without  training  for  it.  I  suppose  that  one  can  train  for 
anything,  even  for  going  without  sleep." 

Mr.  Rapallo  laughed.  "I  should  n't  like  to  make  trial  of 
that.  I  think  the  result  would  be  not  unlike  the  experience 
of  the  man  who  believed  that  eating  was  all  a  matter  of 
habit,  and  that  a  horse  could  be  gradually  accustomed  to  live 
on  nothing.  Unfortunately  for  the  success  of  the  experiment, 
just  when  he  was  getting  the  horse  trained  down  —  it  died." 


152  TOM   PAULDING. 

"  Oh,"  said  Polly,  "  I  don't  see  how  people  can  ever  be  so 
cruel  to  horses  or  dogs  or  cats.     It 's  hateful." 

"  Experiments  are  rarely  pleasant  for  those  on  whom  they 
are  tried,"  Uncle  Dick  returned.  "  They  are  like  practical 
jokes,  in  that  respect." 

When  Tom  had  finished  his  breakfast,  his  mother  left  the 
dining-room  for  a  conference  with  the  Brilliant  Conversa- 
tionalist.    Her  son  stood  for  a  moment  before  the  fireplace. 

"  I  think  that  you  had  better  go  upstairs  again  and  take 
another  nap,"  suggested  his  uncle,  noticing  how  the  boy's 
eyes  were  closing  involuntarily. 

"  I  'm  not  very  sleepy,"  Tom  asserted,  rousing  himself  with 
an  effort.  "  Besides,  I  could  n't  go  to  sleep  if  I  wanted  to. 
Cissy  Smith  and  a  lot  more  boys  are  going  coasting  this 
morning.     Cissy  is  coming  for  me." 

There  was  a  lounge  on  one  side  of  the  dining-room.  Tom 
walked  over  to  it  with  affected  unconcern. 

"  I  've  nothing  to  do  to-day,"  he  exclaimed,  "  and  I  think 
I  '11  just  lie  down  here  and  shut  my  eyes  till  the  boys  come." 

Pauline  slipped  off  her  uncle's  knees  and  drew  a  shawl  over 
Tom  as  he  lay  on  the  lounge. 

"  Marmee  says,"  she  remarked,  sagely,  as  she  did  this,  "  that 
you  must  never  go  to  sleep  without  something  over  you." 

"  But  I  'm  not  going  to  sleep,"  Tom  declared. 

The  little  girl  pulled  the  shawl  up  to  his  shoulders  and 
tucked  it  in.  Then  she  stood  for  a  moment  at  the  head  of 
the  lounge,  smoothing  her  brother's  hair. 

"  I  wish  I  had  curls  like  yours,  Tom,"  she  said ;    "  they 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CURLS.  153 

would  be  so  becoming  on  a  girl,  and  they  are  just  wasted  on 
you." 

"  Pauline,"  her  uncle  called  to  her,  gently,  "  better  leave 
your  brother  alone  and  let  him  have  his  nap." 

"  I  don't  want  a  nap,"  asserted  Tom,  as  he  turned  over  • 
and  in  less  than  sixty  seconds  the  regularity  of  his  breathing 
was  very  like  a  snore. 

Uncle  Dick  laughed  gently.  "  The  boy  was  up  late  last 
night.     No  wonder  he  can't  keep  awake." 

He  parted  with  Polly  at  the  door. 

"Good-by,  Polly,"  he  said,  "I  'm  going  down-town — to 
work." 

"Have  n't  you  any  Christmas  holidays?"  she  asked,  sym- 
pathetically. 

" No,"  her  uncle  answered.  "The  Christmas  vacation  is 
intended  only  for  boys  and  girls,  because  they  have  had  to 
labor  hard  over  their  lessons  all  the  fall.  Of  course  grown- 
up men  don't  work  so  much,  and  therefore  they  don't  need 
it." 

"  Then  I  'm  glad  I  'm  not  going  to  be  a  grown-up  man," 
returned  Pauline. 

After  her  uncle  had  gone  she  patted  Tom's  curls,  trying  to 
smooth  them  and  then  disarranging  them  completely — with- 
out in  any  way  disturbing  his  sound  slumber. 

"  How  they  do  curl !  "  she  thought.  "  I  wonder  if  I  could 
make  them  curl  the  other  way." 

So  she  got  half  a  dozen  little  pieces  of  paper  and  began  to 
twist  her  brother's  locks  up  in  them.    He  still  slept  on.     She 


154  TOM   PAULDING. 

was  careful  not  to  pull  the  distorted  curls.  In  a  few  minutes 
Tom's  head  was  covered  with  half  a  dozen  little  twists  of 
paper. 

"I  do  wonder,  really,"  she  said  to  herself,  "whether  that 
will  take  any  of  his  curls  out  of  curl,  or  whether  it  will  make 
them  curl  the  other  way.     It  will  be  most  curious  to  see." 

She  moved  across  the  room  to  judge  of  the  possible  effect ; 
and  then  her  mother  called  to  her  and  she  flitted  lightly  up- 
stairs, leaving  her  brother  fast  asleep,  all  unconscious  of  the 
adornment  of  his  head  with  little  twisted  bits  of  paper. 

Tom  lay  there  for  nearly  an  hour,  and  then  he  was 
awakened  by  the  signal  of  the  Black  Band  outside  the 
window. 

It  was  not  until  Cissy  Smith  had  whistled  twice  that  Tom 
was  aroused  sufficiently  to  understand  that  his  friend  had 
come  for  him. 

He  sprang  from  the  lounge  and  rushed  into  the  hall.  He 
put  on  his  cap  and,  while  he  was  getting  his  overcoat  but- 
toned, he  opened  the  door  and  returned  the  signal. 

"Is  that  your  new  sled?"  he  cried,  as  he  came  out  and 
found  Cissy  Smith  waiting  for  him.     "  It  's  a  beauty !  " 

"It  's  my  best  Christmas  present,"  Cissy  declared. 
"  Father  had  it  made  for  me  at  the  same  place  one  was  made 
for  him  when  he  was  a  boy.  You  can't  buy  them  anywhere ; 
you  have  to  order  them  a  year  ahead." 

The  sled  was  worthy  of  praise.  It  was  a  shapely  and 
seemly  piece  of  work.  It  stood  high  from  the  ground  on  two 
firm  but  delicate  runners,  shod  and  braced  with  steel.     Its 


THE  BATTLE   OF   THE   CURLS.  155 

slender  length  was  not  disfigured  by  paint,  but  the  tough 
wood  showed  clear-grained  through  the  white  varnish. 

After  the  sled  had  been  duly  admired,  Tom  and  Cissy  set 
out  for  the  hillside  where  they  were  to  coast. 

At  the  first  corner,  they  met  Lott  and  Harry  Zachary ; 
and  other  boys  joined  them  as  they  went  on. 

Lott  asked  Cissy,  "  How  is  little  Jimmy  Wigger  this  morn- 
ing ? "  and  he  twisted  himself  into  an  interrogation-mark  in 
his  anxiety  to  get  all  the  details  of  the  sad  story. 

Cissy  reported  that  the  little  boy  was  not  improving. 

"  If  his  back  is  hurt,"  suggested  Harry  Zachary,  gently,  "  I 
reckon  the  doctors  will  have  to  cut  out  his  backbone,  may- 
be, or  amputate  both  his  legs." 

"  Pop  says  that  little  Jimmy  is  going  to  have  a  close  call," 
Cissy  Smith  declared,  conscious  of  the  advantage  he  had  in 
being  the  doctor's  son. 

"  A  call,  eh  ? "  Harry  Zachary  returned.  "  Well,  I  reckon 
he  's  right.  We  ought  to-  go  over  and  see  how  he  is  this 
morning." 

"  Pop  says  he  is  n't  any  better,"  Cissy  Smith  asserted. 

tt  We  're  not  calling  to  find  out  how  he  is,  but  just  out  of 
manners,"  explained  Harry. 

"  Then  come  along,"  replied  Cissy,  lurching  ahead  in  his 
usual  rolling  gait. 

"  And  when  they  tell  him  we  've  been  there,"  Tom  inter- 
jected, "  perhaps  it  will  make  him  feel  better." 

"Do  you  suppose  that  they  will  really  cut  off  his  legs?" 
asked  Lott. 


156  TOM  PAULDING. 

"  Corkscrew  would  n't  like  to  have  his  legs  cut  off,"  Tom. 
remarked,  at  large,  "  because  he  '  keeps  his  brains  in  his 
boots.' " 

The  boys  greeted  with  a  hearty  laugh  this  allusion  to  a 
recent  remark  of  one  of  the  school-teachers  about  Lott — a 
remark  which  was  nearer  the  truth  than  the  teacher  suspected. 

Lott's  insatiate  curiosity  did  not  extend  to  his  lessons  at 
school.  In  these  he  took  no  interest  whatever.  He  rarely 
studied.  In  his  recitations  he  relied  on  the  help  of  the  boys 
who  might  be  next  to  him  and  on  even  less  lawful  aids.  He 
had  picked  up  a  key  to  the  arithmetic  used  in  the  school ; 
and  this  illegal  assistant  to  recitation  he  used  to  take  into 
class  with  him  every  day ;  at  least,  he  took  with  him  the  one 
or  two  pages  containing  the  answers  needed  in  the  lesson  of 
the  day.  These  loose  leaves  he  concealed  in  a  secret  place 
feasible  only  to  himself, — for  no  one  else  wore  such  tall  boots. 
The  tops  of  these  boots  projected  above  his  knees  when  he 
sat  down ;  and  behind  the  shields  thus  erected  Corkscrew 
placed  the  needed  pages  of  the  key.  The  room  in  which 
arithmetic  was  taught  was  overcrowded;  and  Corkscrew's 
recent  sudden  growth,  and  his  strange  habit  of  twisting  about, 
and  his  enormous  boots,  all  made  him  conspicuous.  It  was 
as  if  he  was  taking  up  more  than  his  share  of  the  room.  The 
teacher  especially  disliked  the  boots,  and  various  remarks 
were  directed  against  them.  The  last  of  these  remarks  was 
to  the  effect  that  "there  is  no  use  saying  anything  more 
about  Lott's  boots ;  he  will  not  part  with  them ;  I  believe  he 
keeps  his  brains  in  those  boots." 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CUKLS.  157 

When  Tom  Paulding  recalled  this  remark  of  the  teacher's, 
Lott  did  not  like  it.  But  he  could  think  of  no  other  retort 
than  to  say,  "  You  are  ever  so  smart,  you  are  !  " 

As  Tom  failed  to  reply  to  this  taunt,  it  seemed  less  effect- 
ive than  Corkscrew  could  have  desired. 

The  boys  had  now  come  to  the  brow  of  the  hill  down  which 
they  were  to  coast. 

In  default  of  any  more  cutting  response  to  the  remark 
about  the  boots,  Lott  seized  Tom's  cap  and  threw  it  as  far  as 
he  could  down  the  hillside. 

If  Tom  Paulding  had  not  made  Corkscrew  angry  by 
an  unprovoked  allusion,  he  would  not  have  exposed  him- 
self to  this  sudden  exhibition  of  his  own  head  with  its 
adornment  of  little  twists  of  paper — all  unknown  to  Tom 
himself. 

"Who  curled  your  hah-?"  asked  Cissy,  when  the  cap  was 
plucked  from  Tom's  head. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  cried  Tom,  partly  to  Lott  and 
partly  to  Cissy. 

By  this  time  Lott,  who  had  been  watching  the  cap  as  it 
circled  through  the  air  and  then  slid  along  the  glassy  surface 
of  the  slide,  had  caught  sight  of  the  half-dozen  bits  of  paper 
which  bedecked  Tom's  head. 

"  Ah,  ha !  "  he  cried,  "  I  told  you  Tom  put  his  hair  up  in 
paper ! " 

"  I  don't,"  said  Tom. 

"  Don't  you  ? "  shouted  Lott,  forcibly.     "  You  tell  that  to  a 
blind  man.     We  can  see  for  ourselves." 
14 


158  TOM   PAULDING. 

"  I  never  curled  my  liair  in  my  life  !  "  Tom  declared. 

"  Then  who  put  it  up  in  paper  for  you  this  morning, 
Tom  f "  was  Corkscrew's  triumphant  question. 

Involuntarily  Tom  raised  his  hand  to  his  head,  and  he  felt 
the  little  twists  of  paper.  The  boys  laughed, —  even  Cissy 
Smith,  Tom's  best  friend,  and  not  an  admirer  of  Lott's, 
joined  in  the  merriment.  Tom  felt  his  face  burning  red  as 
he  pulled  out  the  papers. 

Then  he  turned  to  Lott, 

"  Go  get  my  cap,"  he  said,  angrily. 

"I  won't,"  answered  Lott.  "If  you  had  n't  said  anything 
about  my  boots,  I  should  n't  have  touched  your  cap.  And 
I  'm  glad  I  did  now,  for  I  've  shown  everybody  how  you  get 
your  pretty  curls." 

"  Will  you  get  that  cap ? "  repeated  Tom. 

"  No,  I  won't,"  Lott  replied. 

"  Then  I  '11  make  you,"  said  Tom. 

"I  'd  like  to  see  you  do  it,"  was  Lott's  retort  —  although 
this  was  exactly  what  he  would  not  like  to  see. 

There  is  no  need  to  describe  a  boys'  quarrel  after  it  ends 
in  an  appeal  to  arms — and  fists.  The  battle  between  Tom 
Paulding  and  Corkscrew  Lott  began  promptly,  and,  for  a 
while,  its  issue  was  in  doubt.  Lott  was  older  than  Tom,  and 
taller  and  heavier ;  but,  of  late,  he  had  been  growing  beyond 
his  strength.  In  the  end,  Tom  had  the  best  of  it.  But  Cork- 
screw did  not  go  after  Tom's  cap.  This  gage  of  battle  had 
been  brought  back  by  one  of  the  smaller  boys  during  a  pause 
in  the  fight.     So  it  happened  that  Tom's  was  but  a  barren 


#'':>t;VM 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CURLS.  161 

victory — like  nearly  all  those  a  boy  gains  except  when  he 
conquers  himself. 

Lott  and  several  friends  of  his  went  away  to  coast  down 
another  hill.  Tom,  when  he  had  recovered  his  wind  and 
stanched  his  wounds,  joined  in  the  sport  with  Cissy  and 
Harry  Zachary.  But  when  he  left  the  slide  and  went  home 
to  his  dinner,  he  bore  with  him  the  scars  of  war  in  the  shape 
of  a  swollen  face  and  an  unmistakable  black  eye. 


V;\-^ 

d!Ci 

MfifffiJ' 

hBKJ 

CHAPTER  XV. 

A  new-year's-day  departure. 

OM  did  not  quite  know  what  to  do  about 
his  black  eye.  He  knew  that  his  mother 
would  see  it,  and  then  she  would  be  sure  to 
ask  him  about  it,  and  he  would  have  to  tell 
her  the  whole  story.  That  she  would  not 
approve  of  the  fight  Tom  felt  sure ;  and  he  was  a  little  in 
doubt  whether  he  himself  quite  approved  of  it.  He  had 
often  thought  that  sooner  or  later  he  and  Corkscrew  would 
have  to  "have  it  out"  ;  and  if  the  combat  had  been  really 
inevitable,  he  was  glad  that  it  was  over  and  that  he  had  not 
come  out  of  it  second-best.  But  even  in  the  glow  of  victory, 
he  did  not  feel  altogether  satisfied  with  the  way  in  which  war 
had  been  declared  nor  with  his  own  conduct  in  the  begin- 
ning. His  reference  to  Lott's  keeping  his  brains  in  his  boots 
was  altogether  uncalled  for.  It  is  true  that  Corkscrew's 
throwing  of  the  cap  down-hill  had  slight  justification.  But, 
all  the  same,  Tom  had  an  uneasy  consciousness  that  the  real 
cause  of  the  anger  that  had  burned  so  fiercely  in  his  breast 
was  in  great  measure  the  keen  mortification  arising  from 


A   NEW-YEAR'S-DAY   DEPARTURE.  1C3 

the  disclosure  of  liis  hair  curled  up  in  paper.  And  Tom  knew 
that  it  was  Polly  who  had  bedecked  his  head  with  twists  of 
paper,  and  not  Corkscrew.  Still  they  would  never  have  been 
seen  had  it  not  been  for  Corkscrew.     And  so,  after  all  — 

Tom  had  gone  thus  far  in  the  examination  of  his  conscience 
when  he  reached  home. 

As  the  Careful  Katie  opened  the  door,  she  caught  sight  of 
the  black  eye. 

" Oh,  Master  Tom ! "  she  cried,  "is  it  in  a  fight  ye  've 
been?" 

"Yes,"  Tom  answered.     "I  Ve  been  in  a  fight." 

"  Come  into  the  kitchen,  then,"  she  went  on,  heartily,  "  and 
I  '11  give  ye  a  bit  of  beefsteak  to  put  on  yer  eye.  An'  ye  can 
tell  me  all  about  the  fight  the  while.  Sure,  beefsteak  is  the 
wan  thing  for  a  black  eye.  It 's  many  a  time  me  brothers 
would  have  liked  a  bit,  a-comin'  back  from  a  fair  in  Killaloo, 
or  a  wake,  or  any  other  merrymakin'." 

Tom  was  following  the  Brilliant  Conversationalist  into  the 
kitchen,  when  Pauline  came  dancing  out  into  the  hall. 

"  Oh,  Tom,"  she  cried,  "  what  do  you  think  ?  We  've  three 
new  kittens,  one  black,  and  one  white  with  a  black  eye,  and 
one  all  gray — ever  so  pretty.  And  Marmee  says  I  may  keep 
the  gray  one,  and  I  'm  going  to.  The  one  that 's  white  with 
the  black  eye  is  smaller  and  cunninger,  but  I  don't  like  a 
white  kitten  with  a  black  eye,  do  you "?  It  looks  just  as  if  it 
had  been  fighting,  and  of  course  it  has  n't  yet,  for  it 's  only 
two  hours  old." 

Tom  smiled  grimly.     "  I  'd  keep  the  one  with  the  black 


164:  TOM   PAULDING. 

eye,"  he  said,  as  he  followed  Katie  into  the  kitchen,  "  and  you 
might  call  it  after  me."  And  with  that  he  turned  his  head 
so  that  she  could  see  his  face. 

"  Oh,  Tom  !  "  Polly  exclaimed.  "  You  look  worse  than  the 
kitten  —  ever  so  much  worse  !  " 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Tom,  dolefully,  "  when  the  kitten  gets  a 
little  older,  you  will  put  its  tail  up  in  curl-papers  ;  and  then 
it  will  go  out,  and  come  back  again  with  a  black  eye  bigger 
than  mine." 

"  It  would  be  cruel  to  twist  up  a  cat's  tail !  "  she  declared. 

"  Was  n't  it  cruel  to  let  me  go  out  with  my  hair  in  curl- 
papers ? "  he  rejoined. 

"  Did  you  ? "  she  cried,  penitently.  "  Oh,  Tom,  I  'm  so 
sorry !  I  did  n't  mean  to.  I  never  thought.  I  '11  never  do 
it  again ;  I  '11  be  so  good  next  time.  I  don't  see  how  I  ever 
came  to  do  it.     Won't  you  forgive  me  this  time  ? " 

Tom  made  haste  to  forgive  her  when  he  saw  how  sorrow- 
ful she  looked. 

Then  the  Brilliant  Conversationalist  came  with  a  bit  of  raw 
beef  and  placed  this  to  the  injured  eye  and  tied  it  tight  with 
Tom's  handkerchief  bound  about  his  head. 

"There,"  she  said,  "that  '11  draw  out  the  poison  for  you. 
Now  tell  us  about  the  fight.  Did  ye  bate  the  head  off  the 
villain  ? " 

Then  Tom,  half  pleased  and  half  ashamed,  told  his  sister 
and  Katie  all  about  the  combat  with  Corkscrew  Lott. 

"  Oh,  Tom  !  "  Pauline  cried  suddenly,  "  what  will  Marmee 
say?" 


A   NEW-YEAR'S -DAY   DEPARTURE.  165 

"I  don't  know,"  replied  Tom,  doubtfully.  "She  won't 
like  it." 

"  Shall  I  go  and  break  the  news  to  her  gently,  as  they  do 
in  the  story-books  f "  suggested  his  sister. 

"  No,"  Tom  answered ;  "  I  'd  better  tell  her  myself." 

"  I  '11  go  with  you,"  Pauline  persisted ;  "  and  I  '11  tell  her  it 
was  all  my  fault." 

"  No,"  Tom  replied  again,  "  I  'd  better  go  alone." 

So  he  took  heart  of  grace,  and  went  up  to  his  mother's  room 
and  placed  before  her  the  whole  story ;  not  trying  to  shield 
himself,  but  as  well  as  he  could  telling  the  truth,  the  whole 
truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth. 

Mrs.  Paulding  was  a  wise  mother.  She  saw  that  her  son 
had  been  punished ;  she  did  not  reproach  him,  but  she  spoke 
to  him  gently,  and  when  she  had  ceased  speaking  Tom  had 
made  up  his  mind  never  to  get  into  another  fight.  Then  she 
kissed  him,  and  they  went  down  together  to  their  early 
dinner. 

That  evening,  when  Uncle  Dick  returned,  the  whole  story 
had  to  be  gone  over  once  more.  It  is  to  be  recorded  with 
regret  that  Mr.  Rapallo  laughed  heartily  when  he  heard  about 
the  curls  which  Polly  put  up  in  paper  and  which  Corkscrew 
revealed  accidentally. 

"Best  keep  out  of  a  fight  if  you  can,"  he  said  when  he 
had  heard  the  full  details ;  "  but  if  you  must  fight,  go  in 
to  win." 

"  I  don't  think  I  shall  go  in  again,"  Tom  declared,  looking 
up  at  his  mother  with  an  affectionate  glance,  which  would 


1G6  TOM   PAULDING. 

have  been  more  effective  if  the  black  eye  had  not  been  still 
covered  by  the  bit  of  beefsteak  and  the  handkerchief. 

"Sure  if  he  goes  to  a  wake,  any  dacent  boy  may  have  to 
swing  his  shillalah  about  a  bit,"  the  Careful  Katie  remarked, 
as  she  left  the  room  for  the  preserves. 

"  The  Brilliant  Conversationalist  is  in  favor  of  a  free  fight," 
Uncle  Dick  declared.  "  But  I  '11  give  you  a  Spanish  proverb 
better  than  her  Hibernian  advice  —  and  there  is  no  more  hon- 
orable race  than  the  Spanish,  and  no  one  is  more  punctilious 
than  a  Spaniard.  Yet  they  have  a  saying,  'It  is  the  man 
who  returns  the  first  blow  who  begins  the  quarrel.' " 

After  supper,  Mrs.  Paulding  and  Pauline  went  upstairs, 
leaving  Mr.  Rapallo  and  Tom  alone  together. 

"  I  Ve  been  looking  up  the  ownership  of  that  property 
where  you  think  your  guineas  are,"  said  Uncle  Dick. 

"  Did  you  find  out  ? "  Tom  asked,  eagerly. 

"  I  found  that  the  land  is  in  dispute,"  his  uncle  replied. 
"The  title  to  it  is  doubtful,  and  there  has  been  a  lawsuit 
about  it  in  the  courts  now  for  nearly  ten  years." 

"  But  it  must  belong  to  some  one,"  Tom  insisted. 

"It  's  likely  to  belong  to  the  lawyers,  if  this  litigation 
does  n't  stop  soon,"  Uncle  Dick  answered.  Then  he  explained 
how  it  was : 

"The  case  seems  to  be  complicated;  there  was  an  assign- 
ment of  some  sort  made  by  the  original  owner  fifty  years  ago ; 
and  now  there  are  two  mortgages  and  two  wills,  and  half  a 
dozen  codicils.  And  all  the  parties  are  angry,  and  there  is 
'  blood  on  the  moon.'     So  I  'm  afraid  that  when  we  get  ready 


A  NEW-YEAR'S -DAY   DEPARTURE.  167 

to  dig  for  that  buried  treasure,  we  shall  have  to  do  it  without 
asking  anybody's  permission.  In  the  first  place,  we  don't 
know  whom  to  ask ;  and  in  the  second  place,  whoever  we  ask 
would  surely  suspect  us  of  coming  from  one  of  the  other 
parties,  and  would  not  only  refuse  but  perhaps  set  a  guard 
on  the  property  or  have  detectives  watch  us." 

"  Oh  !  "  said  Tom,  and  he  was  conscious  of  a  certain  swell- 
ing pride  at  the  possibility  that  there  might  be  a  detective 
"  on  his  track,"  as  he  phrased  it. 

"  Of  course,"  Mr.  Rapallo  continued,  "  as  long  as  the 
frost 's  in  the  ground  there  is  no  use  in  our  trying  to  do  any- 
thing.    In  the  meanwhile,  you  will  say  nothing." 

"Not  even  to  Cissy  Smith?"  Tom  urged,  aware  of  the  de- 
light that  he  would  have  in  imparting  this  real  mystery  to  his 
friend. 

"Not  even  to  anybody,"  Uncle  Dick  answered.  "If  Cissy 
were  to  tell  some  one,  you  could  n't  blame  him  for  not  keep- 
ing the  secret  you  could  n't  keep  yourself." 

Tom  felt  the  force  of  this  reasoning,  but  he  regretted  that 
his  uncle  thought  it  best  not  to  tell  Cissy.  Tom  felt  sure  of 
Cissy's  discretion,  and  he  longed  to  have  some  one  with  whom 
to  talk  over  the  buried  treasure.  Thus  early  in  life  Tom  was 
made  to  see  the  wisdom  in  the  saying  of  the  philosopher, 
that  a  secret  is  a  most  undesirable  property,  for  "  if  you  tell 
it,  you  have  n't  got  it ;  and  if  you  don't  tell  it,  you  lose  the 
interest  on  the  investment." 

The  next  afternoon,  as  Tom  was  coming  back  from  asking 
how  little  Jimmy  Wigger  was  getting  on,  he  saw  Mr.  Ra- 


168  TOM   PAULDING. 

pallo  standing  on  the  stoop  of  Mr.  Joshua  Hoffmann's  house 
talking  to  the  old  gentleman  he  had  before  seen  leaning  over 
the  wall.  Tom  supposed  that  the  Old  Gentleman  who  leaned 
over  the  Wall,  as  he  called  him  in  his  own  mind,  was  proba- 
bly Mr.  Hoffmann  himself,  but  he  was  not  quite  sure  of  it. 

Once  again  before  New  Year's  Day,  Tom  saw  his  uncle  in 
conference  with  the  Old  Gentleman  who  leaned  over  the  Wall. 
Tom  noticed  that  about  this  time  Mr.  Rapallo  was  a  little 
more  restless  than  usual ;  and  then  again  that  he  would  ink 
into  frequent  fits  of  thoughtful  silence. 

On  New  Year's  morning,  Mr.  Rapallo  caught  Tom's  eye, 
after  Tom  had  spoken  twice  without  bringing  him  out  of  his 
silent  abstraction. 

" I  beg  your  pardon,  Tom,"  he  said ;  "I  was  thinking.  The 
fact  is,  I  've  got  the  idea  of  a  little  invention  buzzing  in  my 
head,  and  I  keep  turning  it  over  and  over,  and  looking  at  it 
on  all  sides,  even  when  I  ought  to  be  doing  something  else — 
eating  my  breakfast,  for  example." 

They  were  then  at  their  morning  meal ;  and  just  at  that 
moment  the  shrill  whistle  of  the  postman  was  heard. 

"  There  does  be  only  one  letter-man  this  mornin',  I  'm 
thinkin',"  said  the  Brilliant  Conversationalist,  as  she  went  out 
to  see  what  the  postman  had  for  them. 

"There  may  be  a  letter  for  me,"  Uncle  Dick  remarked, 
"  that  will  take  me  away  to-night." 

"  You  are  not  going  to  leave  us? "  cried  Polly. 

"  I  may  have  to  go,"  her  uncle  answered. 

"  Where  ? "  she  asked. 


A  NEW-YEAR'S-DAY  DEPARTURE.  1G9 

"On  a  journey — to  lots  of  places/'  he  replied. 

"  How  long  will  you  be  gone  ? "  she  went  on. 

"  I  don't  know.  Two  or  three  months,  perhaps,"  he  an- 
swered. Then,  catching  Tom's  inquiring  glance,  he  added, 
"  I  shall  be  back  by  the  time  the  frost  is  out  of  the  ground. 
I  'm  like  a  bad  penny,  I  'm  sure  to  turn  up  again." 

"  You  are  not  a  bad  penny  at  all,"  said  Polly,  with  empha- 
sis. "  You  are  as  good  as  gold,  and  a  penny  is  only  copper. 
And  if  you  have  to  go,  we  shall  all  miss  you  very,  very  much ! " 
Then  she  got  up  and  walked  around  the  table  and  kissed  her 
uncle  on  the  cheek. 

Katie  returned  and  gave  Uncle  Dick  the  only  letter  she 
had  in  her  hand. 

"  The  letter-man  says  he  does  n't  be  comin'  here  again  to- 
day, mum,  but  ye  can  give  him  his  New  Year's  in  the  morn- 
in',"  she  reported. 

"  Must  you  go  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Paulding,  who  had  watched 
her  brother's  face  as  he  read  the  note. 

"  Yes.  I  must  start  this  afternoon  at  the  latest,"  he  an- 
swered. "  It  is  to  see  a  man  about  this  little  invention  of 
mine.  If  he  likes  it,  we  shall  work  it  out  together.  Then, 
when  I  come  back  in  the  spring,  Mary,  I  hope  to  bring  you 
that  Christmas  present  I  owe  you." 

When  Mr.  Rapallo  left  the  house,  about  twelve  o'clock, 
Tom  went  with  him  to  the  nearest  elevated-railroad  station. 
Uncle  Dick  did  not  walk  this  time,  as  he  had  a  heavy  bag  to 
carry. 

15 


170  TOM   PAULDING. 

After  Mr.  Rapallo  and  Tom  had  stepped  down  upon  the 
sidewalk,  from  the  flight  of  wooden  steps  leading  from  the 
street  up  to  the  rocky  crest  on  which  the  house  was  perched, 
they  saw  Cissy  Smith.     He  was  coming  eagerly  toward  them. 

"  Have  you  heard  the  news  about  little  Jimmy  f "  asked 
Cissy. 

"  No,"  Tom  replied.     "  What  is  it  ? " 

"He  died  this  morning  early,"  Cissy  continued.  "Father 
was  there.  Little  Jimmy  did  not  suffer  any.  And  he 
could  n't  ever  have  been  strong  again." 

"  Poor  little  chap  !  "  said  Tom,  thinking  of  the  eagerness  of 
the  little  fellow  as  he  had  followed  Tom  about  ready  to  do 
his  bidding,  whatever  it  might  be. 

"  The  years  bring  joy  to  some  and  sorrow  to  others,"  Mr. 
Rapallo  remarked  gently ;  "  but  it  is  a  sad  house  to  which 
Death  pays  a  New  Year's  call." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


TOM    HAS    PATIENCE. 


WO  days  after' New  Year's,  little  Jimmy 
Wigger  was  buried,  and  all  the  boys  of  the 
Black  Band  attended  the  funeral.  Eight 
of  them,  including-  Tom  Paulding,  Cissy 
Smith,  G.  W.  Lott,  and  Harry  Zachary, 
were  asked  to  be  pall-bearers.  Tom  long- 
remembered  his  silent  walk  by  the  side  of  the  coffin  as  one 
of  the  saddest  duties  he  had  ever  performed. 

The  next  Monday  school  beg-an  again,  and  Tom  went  back 
to  work.  Now  that  he  believed  he  knew  where  the  stolen 
guineas  were,  and  now  that  he  expected  to  recover  them  with 
his  uncle's  assistance,  his  hope  of  being  able  to  go  to  the 
School  of  Mines  increased,  and  he  studied  harder  than  ever 
before  that  he  might  fit  himself  as  soon  as  possible  for  this 
new  undertaking.  Unless  something  happened  to  help  Mrs. 
Paulding,  Tom  knew  that  at  the  end  of  the  year  he  would 
have  to  give  up  his  aspirations  and  take  a  place  in  a  store, 
that  his  earnings  might  contribute  to  the  support  of  the 
family.    If  he  coidd  find  the  buried  treasure,  he  felt  sure  that 


172  TOM    PAULDING. 

the  money  would  suffice  to  tide  over  the  difficulties  of  the 
household  until  after  he  had  been  through  the  School  of 
Mines,  and  was  able  to  make  his  living  as  a  man,  and  to  sup- 
port his  mother  and  sister  on  his  income  as  an  engineer. 
During  the  Christmas  vacation,  after  his  uncle  had  gone, 
Tom  had  walked  down  to  Columbia  College  and  had  found 
out  the  requirements  for  admission.  He  believed  that  he 
could  pass  the  examination  the  next  year,  late  in  the  spring, 
if  he  could  keep  on  with  his  studies  until  then.  And  whether 
he  could  do  this  or  not  depended  now  absolutely  on  the  find- 
ing of  the  two  thousand  guineas  stolen  from  Ins  great-grand- 
father. 

At  the  house,  they  all  missed  Uncle  Dick.  In  the  two 
months  that  Mr.  Rapallo  had  spent  at  Mrs.  Paulding's  he 
had  made  himself  quite  at  home,  and  they  had  come  to  look 
on  him  as  a  permanent  member  of  the  family.  Mrs.  Pauld- 
ing had  greatly  enjoyed  the  long  quiet  talks  she  had  had 
with  her  brother  after  her  children  were  gone  to  bed.  Paul- 
ine missed  a  playfellow  always  ready  to  join  in  her  sports  and 
always  quick  to  devise  a  fresh  game.  Even  the  Brilliant 
Conversationalist  grieved  over  Mr.  Rapallo's  departure.  Cer- 
tain little  dishes  of  which  he  had  been  especially  fond  she 
ceased  to  serve,  explaining  that  she  would  make  these  again 
"  after  Mr.  Richard  do  be  back." 

But  Tom  missed  him  most  of  all.  He  felt  lonely  without 
Uncle  Dick,  who  was  older  than  he  by  nearty  thirty  years,  yet 
who  was  always  able  to  look  at  things  from  his  point  of 
view.     The  man  and  the  boy  had  been  very  companionable, 


TOM   HAS   PATIENCE.  173 

one  to  the  other.  Until  long  afterward,  Tom  did  not  know 
how  much  his  character  had  been  influenced  by  the  example 
of  his  Uncle  Dick,  and  how  much  Mr.  Rapallo's  shrewd  aud 
pithy  talks  had  affected  his  views  of  life. 

What  Tom  most  needed  was  some  one  with  whom  he  could 
discuss  the  buried  treasure.  He  was  young,  and  youth  is 
sanguine ;  and  he  felt  sure  that  the  stolen  guineas  were  really 
where  he  thought  they  were.  But  he  wanted  to  have  some 
one  to  whom  he  could  talk  about  them,  so  as  to  keep  up  his 
own  enthusiasm.  There  were  days,  during  the  absence  of 
Uncle  Dick,  when  it  was  very  difficult  for  Tom  not  to  tell 
Cissy  Smith,  despite  Mr.  Rapallo's  warning.  The  secret 
burned  within  him  and  sometimes  it  almost  burst  forth  of  its 
own  accord.  Tom  was  strong  enough  to  resist  the  tempta- 
tion. He  did  not  like  to  have  to  confess  to  his  uncle  that 
he  had  disregarded  the  warning.  Besides,  he  was  a  little  in 
doubt  how  Cissy  would  accept  the  revelation ;  Cissy  was  a 
skeptical  boy,  with  a  superabundance  of  cold  common  sense. 
In  imagination,  when  Tom  told  Cissy  all  about  the  buried 
treasure,  and  when  he  came  to  the  long  string  of  mere  proba- 
bilities on  which  its  discovery  depended,  he  shivered  as  he 
fancied  that  he  heard  Cissy's  frank  opinion  : 

"  Shucks  !  I  don't  take  any  stock  in  fairy-stories  like  that." 
So  Tom  told  no  one.  Yet  the  effort  to  bottle  up  his  great 
secret  must  have  been  obvious  at  times.  Corkscrew  Lott  be- 
came aware  of  it,  or  at  least  suspicious  that  something  was 
on  Tom's  mind.  Corkscrew's  curiosity  was  greater  than  his 
pride,  and  he  made  up  with  Tom  before  they  had  been  back 


174        .  TOM   PAULDING. 

at  school  for  a  week.  He  threw  himself  in  Tom's  way  when- 
ever Tom  went  out  for  a  walk.  In  some  strange  manner  he 
discovered  that  Tom  was  interested  in  the  vacant  lot  where 
the  stepping-stones  were  ;  and  once,  when  Tom  was  drawn — 
as  he  often  was — to  go  and  look  at  the  bank  of  earth  be- 
neath which  he  believed  his  treasure  lay  hidden,  he  found 
Corkscrew  prowling  around  in  the  lot,  and  poking  into  its 
corners  as  if  to  spy  out  Tom's  secret. 

Corkscrew's  curiosity  went  so  far  that  he  even  stopped 
Pauline  one  day,  as  she  was  going  home  from  school,  to  ask 
a  few  questions  about  Tom's  doings,  vainly  endeavoring  to 
entrap  her  into  some  admission  as  to  the  cause  of  her 
brother's  change  of  manner. 

"  I  did  n't  know  he  had  changed  at  all,"  Polly  answered, 
simply. 

"  Oh,  I  did  n't  know,  either,"  explained  Corkscrew.  "  I  only 
thought  that,  maybe,  you  know,  he  might  have  got  on  the 
track  of  that  buried  treasure,  or  stolen  money,  or  something 
of  that  sort,  that  used  to  belong  to  his  great-great-great- 
grandfather, once  upon  a  time." 

When  this  was  repeated  to  Tom,  he  regretted  that  he  had 
ever  mentioned  the  loss  of  the  two  thousand  guineas  to  any 
of  the  Black  Band,  and  most  of  all  that  he  had  said  anything 
in  Corkscrew's  hearing.  He  resolved  to  keep  away  from  the 
stepping-stones  until  Uncle  Dick  returned. 

Then  it  struck  him  that  it  would  be  fun  to  lead  Corkscrew 
off  on  a  false  scent.  So  whenever  he  had  part  of  an  after- 
noon to  spare,  he  would  start  off  to  Morningside  Park,  and  as 


TOM   HAS   PATIENCE. 


175 


he  took  care  to  let  Lott  know  where  he  was  going,  he  soon 
had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  Corkscrew  skulking  along  a 
block  or  so  behind  him.  Tom  would  go  gravely  down  the 
stone  steps  of  Morningside  Park,  and  he  would  pretend  to 


wiiimfiWpi/o 
i  '/it  /   f  // 


"TOM   would   pretend   to   sound   kocks   with   a   stick. 


sound  rocks  with  a  stick  and  to  peer  into  all  the  crevices  he 
could  find.  Sometimes  he  would  push  on  down  to  Central 
Park  when  he  was  sure  that  Corkscrew  was  following ;  and 
then  he  would  go  all  over  the  old  fort  which  is  still  standing 
at  the  upper  end  of  the  park. 


176  TOM   PAULDING. 

And  so  the  winter  passed.  Early  in  January  there  was  a 
gentle  thaw ;  and  Tom  hoped  that  the  cold  weather  was  over 
and  that  the  ground  would  soon  be  soft  enough  for  them  to 
begin  to  dig.  But  on  the  day  before  Washington's  Birthday 
there  came  a  terrific  snow-storm;  covering  the  earth  with  a 
white  mantle  nearly  a  yard  thick.  The  wind  blew  fiercely 
down  the  Hudson,  tossing  the  snow-wreaths  high  in  the  air, 
and  swirling  them  off  down  the  hillside  into  the  river.  Then 
there  followed  a  hard  frost,  and  the  thermometer  fell  day 
after  day,  and  the  wind  blew  keener  and  keener. 

All  things  come  to  an  end  in  time,  and  the  winter  was  over 
before  Tom  or  his  mother  had  any  word  from  Richard 
Rapallo. 

"  Don't  expect  to  hear  from  me  till  you  see  me,"  he  had  said 
to  his  sister  just  before  he  left  the  house.  "  You  know  I  'm 
not  '  The  Complete  Letter- Writer.'  If  I  get  my  work  done, 
I  '11  drop  in  again  when  you  least  expect  me." 

As  the  season  advanced,  and  after  the  final  thaw  had  come, 
the  boys  gave  up  coasting  and  skating,  and  began  kite-flying. 
The  river  was  open  again,  although  huge  fields  of  ice  still 
came  floating  past.  There  were  signs  of  spring  at  last. 
Across  the  river,  up  near  the  Palisades,  there  began  to  be  a 
hint  of  fresh  verdure.  The  long  tows  were  once  more  to  be 
seen  moving  slowly  up  and  down  the  river. 

The  trees  on  the  hillside  below  the  Riverside  Drive  and  the 
few  bushes  about  Mrs.  Paulding's  house  were  green  again 
before  there  was  any  news  of  Uncle  Dick.  The  hard  part — 
or  at  least  so  Tom  thought  it — was  that  they  did  not  know 


TOM   HAS   PATIENCE.  177 

where  Mr.  Rapallo  was.  Sometimes  Tom  saw  the  Old  Gen- 
tleman who  leaned  over  the  Wall  walking  slowly  along  the 
parapet  of  the  drive  before  his  house,  as  if  he  were  inhaling 
the  freshness  of  the  spring ;  and  Tom  wondered  if  this  be- 
nevolent-looking old  gentleman  knew  where  Uncle  Dick  was, 
and  whether  he  would  be  greatly  offended  if  Tom  should  go 
up  and  ask  him. 

One  day  when  spring  was  well  advanced, — it  was  then 
about  the  middle  of  April, —  Tom  determined  to  walk  past  the 
vacant  lots  where  the  stepping-stones  were,  that  he  might  at 
least  enjoy  the  sight  of  the  outward  covering  of  the  wealth  he 
was  seeking.  To  his  dismay  he  found  that  there  was  a  cart 
standing  on  the  tongue  of  land  projecting  out  to  the  step- 
ping-stones, and  that  this  cart  was  but  one  of  a  dozen  or 
more  engaged  in  emptying  builder's  rubbish. 

Tom  did  not  know  what  to  do.  If  these  lots  were  to  be 
filled  up,  then  the  difficulty  of  recovering  the  buried  treasure 
would  be  doubled.  Of  course  he  saw  that  he  could  oppose  no 
resistance  to  the  work ;  he  had  to  suffer  in  silence. 

The  next  day,  when  he  went  to  see  how  far  the  filling  had 
progressed,  he  was  delighted  to  find  that  the  rubbish  was  now 
being  emptied  at  one  of  the  upper  corners  of  the  block,  and 
that  the  fence  had  been  replaced  across  the  tongue  of  land 
which  led  out  to  the  stepping-stones. 

About  that  time  there  came  a  week  of  warm  weather,  and 
it  seemed  indisputable  that  there  would  be  no  more  frost  till 
the  fall.  Still  there  was  no  word  from  Uncle  Dick.  Tom 
thought  that  the  hour  had  come  when  an  effort  ought  to 


178  TOM   PAULDING. 

be  made  to  get  at  the  buried  treasure ;  but  he  himself 
did  not  know  how  to  go  to  work.  He  had  relied  on  his 
uncle's  help. 

Suddenly  the  fear  came  to  him  that  perhaps  Uncle  Dick 
would  not  return  to  them  until  too  late.  What  would  Tom 
do  then  ? 

As  the  days  drew  on,  Tom  became  more  and  more  doubt- 
ful about  his  uncle's  coming.  At  last  he  determined  to  wait 
no  longer,  but  to  see  what  he  could  do  by  himself. 

He  recalled  what  Mr.  Rapallo  had  said  about  hydraulic 
mining  on  the  night  of  the  fire,  when  little  Jimmy  was  run 
over.  Uncle  Dick  had  declared  that  the  stolen  guineas  could 
best  be  got  at  by  hydraulic  mining.  What  that  was  Tom  did 
not  know.     He  resolved  to  find  out. 

One  Saturday  afternoon  he  went  down  to  the  Apprentices' 
Library,  and  took  out  a  book  which  the  kindly  librarian  indi- 
cated as  likely  to  give  him  the  best  account  of  the  process. 
The  next  Saturday  he  got  another  volume ;  and  a  third  Sat- 
urday he  spent  in  looking  up  articles  in  the  cyclopedias  and 
in  the  bound  magazines  where  the  librarian  had  told  him  to 
search.  From  these,  some  of  which  were  fully  illustrated, 
Tom  managed  to  get  an  understanding  of  the  principles  of 
hydraulic  mining;  and  he  thought  he  saw  how  his  uncle 
meant  to  apply  them  to  the  getting  out  of  the  two  thousand 
guineas  buried  near  the  stepping-stones. 

Hydraulic  mining  is  the  name  given  in  the  West  to  the 
method  of  washing  out  a  hillside  containing  auriferous  sands 
by  the  impact  of  a  stream  of  water,  which  carries  down,  into 


TOM  HAS  PATIENCE.  179 

a  prepared  channel  in  the  valley  below,  the  "  pay  gravel "  in 
the  hill  on  both  sides.  After  Tom  had  mastered  the  sugges- 
tion, he  saw  that  his  uncle  meant  in  like  manner  to  wash 
away  the  dirt  and  sand  which  hid  the  remains  of  Jeffrey 
Kerr. 

The  stepping-stones  were  near  the  upper  end  of  the  vacant 
block,  and  the  ground  sloped  sharply  away  below,  where  the 
brook  had  run  formerly.  Tom  saw  that  if  a  little  channel 
were  dug  around  two  projecting  rocks,  it  would  then  be  easy 
to  wash  out  the  loose  earth,  partly  rubbish  and  partly  sand, 
which  formed  the  projecting  point  over  the  stepping-stones. 
If  his  guess  as  to  the  present  position  of  the  stolen  money 
were  right,  then  he  would  have  to  wear  into  the  bank  a  hole 
fully  twenty  feet  deep.  With  the  aid  of  the  small  canal  Tom 
had  planned,  he  thought  he  saw  his  way  clear  to  a  most  suc- 
cessful operation  in  hydraulic  mining — if  he  could  only  get 
plenty  of  water. 

Where  the  water  was  to  come  from,  was  a  question  for 
which  he  had  no  answer.  Uncle  Dick  had  suggested  that  the 
buried  treasure  could  be  got  out  by  hydraulic  mining,  but  he 
had  not  hinted  how  he  was  to  get  the  water. 

While  Tom  was  puzzling  over  this  to  no  purpose,  one  warm 
sunny  day  in  May,  when  the  leaves  were  opening  on  the  trees 
and  the  bushes,  Uncle  Dick  came  back  most  unexpectedly. 

He  gave  no  account  of  his  wanderings ;  he  offered  no  ex- 
planation of  his  long  absence  ;  but  from  chance  allusions  in 
his  conversation  Tom  and  Polly  made  out  that  he  had  been 
traveling  part  of  the  time  he  had  been  away,  and  that  he  had 


180  TOM   PAULDING. 

been  to  Boston,  and  to  Chicago,  and  possibly  even  as  far  as 
San  Francisco. 

After  supper  he  asked  Tom  to  come  up  to  his  room. 

When  Tom  had  followed  his  uncle  out  of  the  dining-room, 
Polly  asked  her  mother  anxiously,  "  Did  Uncle  Dick  bring 
you  that  Christmas  present  he  owes  you "? " 

"  He  has  not  given  it  to  me  yet,"  Mrs.  Paulding  answered ; 
"  but  he  will  some  day." 

"  I  wish  he  would,"  said  Pauline.  "  I  do  so  want  to  know 
what  it  is." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


ENLISTING    ALLIES. 


NCLE  DICK  and  Tom  had  a  long  confer- 
ence that  evening  in  the  former's  room. 
Tom  told  his  uncle  the  exact  state  of 
affairs.  He  described  how  the  dumping 
of  rubbish  had  begun  again  just  over  the 
stepping-stones,  and  how  it  had  ceased  the 
next  day.  He  set  forth  Lott's  attempt  to  spy  on  him,  and  his 
own  success  in  throwing  Corkscrew's  curiosity  off  the  scent. 
He  gave  a  full  account  of  his  own  endeavors  to  discover  the 
methods  of  hydraulic  mining. 

"  I  think  I  have  found  out  how  you  mean  to  go  to  work, 
Uncle  Dick,"  he  said ;  "  but  I  confess  that  I  don't  see  where 
we  are  to  get  the  water  to  wash  out  all  that  dirt," 

"  That  will  be  easy  enough,"  replied  his  uncle.  "  We  can 
have  all  the  water  we  need — when  we  need  it.  That  will  not 
be  for  some  time  yet." 

Tom  went  on  to  tell  Mr.  Rapallo  how  very  difficult  it  had 
been  for  him  to  keep  his  secret  to  himself. 

"  But  I  have  done  it !  "  he  concluded.     "  I  have  n't  said  a 
single,  solitary  word  to  anybody." 
16 


182  TOM   PAULDING. 

"  I  'm  not  sure  that  the  time  has  n't  come  to  take  one  or 
two  of  your  friends  into  your  confidence,"  Uncle  Dick 
responded. 

"  Can  I  tell  Cissy  Smith  ? "  cried  Tom ;  "  and  Harry  Zach- 
ary,  too  ? " 

"  From  what  you  have  said  to  me  about  your  friends,"  his 
uncle  answered,  "  I  should  judge  that  Cissy  and  Harry  will 
be  your  safest  allies  in  this  affair." 

"  Cissy  is  my  best  friend,"  explained  the  boy,  "  and  Harry 
is  my  next-best." 

"  Do  you  think  they  would  be  willing  to  help  you  ? "  asked 
Mr.  Rapallo. 

"Willing?"  echoed  Tom.  "They  'd  just  be  delighted, 
both  of  them,  to  be  let  into  a  scheme  like  this.  What  do  you 
want  them  to  do  ? " 

"  I  don't  know  yet,  exactly,"  his  uncle  responded ;  "  but 
there  will  be  work  enough  of  one  kind  or  another.  We  shall 
have  to  dig  a  trench  to  carry  off  the  water,  for  instance." 

"  They  go  to  school  with  me,  you  know,  Uncle  Dick,"  said 
Tom  ;  "  and  they  are  free  only  at  the  same  time  that  I  am, — 
Saturday  afternoons,  mostly." 

"  I  think  it  will  be  better  for  you  to  have  a  whole  day  be- 
fore you — "  began  Mr.  Rapallo. 

"  Then  I  don't  see  how  we  can  come,"  Tom  interrupted, 
"  unless  we  play  hooky." 

"Don't  you  have  Decoration  Da}r  as  a  holiday?"  asked  his 
uncle. 

"  Decoration  Day  ? "  Tom  repeated,  with  a  little  disappoint- 


ENLISTING   ALLIES.  183 

ment  in  his  voice.  "  Ob,  yes, — but  that 's  more  than  a  fort- 
night off !  " 

"  I  doubt  if  we  shall  be  ready  for  a  fortnight  yet,"  Mr.  Ra- 
pallo  returned.  "  There  are  various  things  to  do  before  we 
can  turn  on  the  water  and  wash  out  the  gold — if  there  's 
any  there  to  wash  out." 

"  Uncle  Dick,"  cried  Tom,  piteously,  "  don't  say  now  that 
you  don't  think  the  gold  is  there  !  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  Mr.  Rapallo  answered  ;  "  I  think  it  is  there — but 
I  don't  Ivtiow.  We  have  only  a  '  working  hypothesis,'  you  re- 
member." 

"  I  remember,"  Tom  repeated,  dolefully ;  "  but  I  Ve  been  so 
long  thinking  about  those  two  thousand  guineas  lying  in  the 
ground  there  by  the  stepping-stones  that  it  seems  as  if  I  could 
see  them,  almost.     I  feel  certain  sure  they  are  there  !  " 

"  Let  us  hope  so,"  his  uncle  responded.  "  And  don't  be 
down-hearted  about  it.  If  we  are  to  get  that  gold,  we  must 
all  believe  that  it  is  there  until  we  know  that  it  is  n't." 

" I  know  it  is"  asseverated  Tom. 

"  To-morrow,"  Mr.  Rapallo  continued,  u  you  must  take 
your  friends  into  your  confidence.  I  have  business  down- 
town and  I  '11  inquire  whether  the  lawyers  have  found  out 
yet  to  whom  that  vacant  block  belongs.  If  they  have,  I  '11 
try  to  get  permission  for  us  to  dig  out  your  two  thousand 
guineas." 

So  the  next  afternoon,  when  school  was  out,  Tom  Paulding 
took  Cissy  Smith  and  Harry  Zachary  off  with  him. 


184  TOM   PAULDING. 

Corkscrew  Lott  was  going  to  join  them,  but  Tom  said  to 
him  frankly ; 

"  I  've  got  something  particular  to  say  to  Cissy  and  Harry, 
and  so  I  don't  want  anybody  else  to  come  with  us,  Lott." 

"  Can't  you  tell  me,  too  ? "  Lott  pleaded. 

"  I  can,  of  course,"  Tom  answered,  "  if  I  want  to.  But  I 
don't." 

"  Oh,  very  well !  "  said  Corkscrew,  gruffly ;  "  I  don't  want 
to  know  any  of  your  old  secrets." 

Notwithstanding  this  disclaimer  of  all  interest  in  their  af- 
fairs, Corkscrew  lingered  at  school  until  after  the  three  other 
boys  had  gone  on  ahead,  and  then  he  followed  them  from 
afar,  in  the  hope  that  something  unforeseen  might  reveal  the 
matter  of  their  discourse. 

Harry  Zachary  gave  a  swift  glance  back  when  they  came 
to  their  first  turning.  He  caught  sight  of  Lott,  who  stopped 
short  when  he  saw  that  he  was  detected. 

"  There  's  Corkscrew  on  our  trail,"  said  Harry.  "  Let  's 
throw  him  off  the  track." 

"  How  are  you  going  to  do  it  ? "  said  Cissy. 

"  I  've  got  a  way,"  Harry  explained.     "  Follow  me." 

And  with  that  he  turned  into  the  side  street,  and  walked 
rapidly  toward  the  elevated  railroad  station. 

"  Corkscrew  will  be  sure  to  follow  us  now,"  Harry  de- 
clared ;  "  and  when  we  come  to  the  station,  we  '11  go  upstairs. 
He  can't  come  up  after  us  because  he  knows  we  should  see 
him  then." 

"  But  we  don't  want  to  pay  car-fare  to  nowhere  just  to  get 


ENLISTING   ALLIES.  185 

rid  of  Corkscrew  Lott,"  remarked  Cissy  Smith,  rolling  along 
a  little  ahead  of  the  others. 

"We  need  n't  pay  a  cent,"  Harry  Zachary  responded. 
"  We  can  just  wait  on  the  outside  platform,  out  of  sight  from 
where  he  is,  while  we  can  see  him  through  the  window.  Then 
when  he  goes,  we  '11  slip  down  again  and  run  to  the  Three 
Trees." 

"  All  right,"  said  Cissy ;  and  Tom  also  agreed  to  the  plan. 

The  boys  went  np  the  steps  of  the  elevated  railroad  station ; 
and  through  the  window  of  the  covered  platform  they  saw 
Corkscrew  come  up  and  stare  hard  at  the  station  and  hesitate 
a  little,  twisting  about  as  usual.  Then  he  set  out  to  cross 
the  avenue  to  look  at  the  inner  platforms;  but,  before  he 
could  do  that,  a  train  from  up-town  and  another  from  down- 
town arrived  and  departed  with  much  puffing  and  hissing, 
and  shrill  squeaking  of  the  brakes.  So  Corkscrew  gave  up 
his  effort  to  "shadow"  the  three  friends,  and  went  on  his 
way  home. 

As  soon  as  he  was  gone,  Tom,  Cissy,  and  Harrjr  came  out 
of  hiding  and  started  off  for  the  Riverside  Drive,  where  there 
was  a  favorite  spot  of  theirs,  down  by  the  railroad  and  the 
river.  Here  three  trees  grew  in  a  group,  with  knotted  and 
distorted  branches,  so  that  half  a  dozen  boys  could  find  seats 
amid  their  limbs. 

When  the  three  friends  had  arrived  at  this  pleasant  place, 
doubly  delightful  in  the  fresh  fairness  of  spring,  Tom,  who 
had  refused  to  open  the  subject  before,  said  solemnly,  "  Fel- 
lows, can  you  keep  a  secret  ? " 


186 


TOM   PAULDING. 


"  Shucks  !  "  cried  Cissy  Smith,  forcibly.  "  Did  you  bring 
us  all  the  way  down  here  just  to  tell  us  a  secret  ?  I  thought 
you  said  you  wanted  us  to  help  you  do  something." 


fl  f\f, 


"TOM    SAID    SOLEMNLY,    'FELLOWS,     CAN    YOU    KEEr    A    SECRET?'" 

"Is  it  about  your  lost  treasure?"  asked  Harry  Z  a  chary, 
sympathetically. 

"  How  did  you  know  ? "  Tom  inquired,  in  surprise. 

"  I  don't  know ;  I  guessed,"  Harry  explained.  "  You  told 
us  once  that  you  were  going  to  hunt  for  it,  and  you  've  been 
so  different  since  then  that  I  thought  perhaps  you  had  got  a 
notion  where  it  was" 

"  I  have  found  it ! "  said  Tom,  with  intense  enjoyment  of 
their  surprise. 


ENLISTING   ALLIES.  187 

"  How  much  is  it  ? "  asked  the  practical  Cissy. 

"  Where  is  it  ? "  Harry  cried. 

"It 's  two  thousand  guineas,"  Tom  replied ;  "  and  it  is  now 
buried  far  from  here.  And  I  want  you  two  to  help  me  get  at 
it." 

"  Buried  ? "  Cissy  repeated.    "  Then  you  have  not  seen  it  ? " 

"  No,"  Tom  replied,  "  but  I  know  it 's  there.  It  must  be 
there ! " 

"We  '11  help  you,  of  course,"  said  Harry  Zachary,  with  a 
return  of  his  shy  and  gentle  manner.  "  But  we  shall  have  to 
kill  the  guards,  sha'n't  we  ? " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? "  Tom  asked,  in  amazement. 

"  I  suppose  there  must  be  somebody  guarding  this  buried 
treasure,  and  they  must  be  removed,  of  course.  '  Dead  men 
tell  no  tales,'  you  know,"  Harry  explained.  "And  I  have  been 
reading  about  a  new  way  of  getting  rid  of  an  enemy ;  the 
Italians  used  to  do  it  in  the  Middle  Ages.  You  have  a  glass 
stiletto, — that 's  a  sort  of  dagger  made  of  glass, —  and  you 
stab  the  man  in  the  back,  and  break  off  the  blade,  and  throw 
the  handle  into  the  Grand  Canal ;  then  the  man  's  dead  and 
nobody  knows  you  had  anything  to  do  with  it." 

"  I  'm  glad  of  that,"  said  Cissy,  dryly. 

"  But  is  it  necessary  to  kill  the  guards  ? "  Harry  went  on. 
"  Would  n't  it  do  to  give  them  something  to  put  them  to  sleep 
while  we  get  at  the  treasure  ?  I  reckon  Cissy  could  coax  his 
father  to  give  us  a  prescription  for  something  that  would  put 
a  whole  platoon  of  police  to  sleep  for  the  day." 

"  Shucks !  "  said  Cissy,  vigorously.     "  I  'm  not  going  to  stab 


188  TOM   PAULDING. 

anybody  in  the  back  with  a  glass  dagger,  nor  are  you  either, 
Harry  Zachaiy.  And  I  'm  not  going  to  try  to  put  a  platoon 
of  police  to  sleep.  It  would  be  what  my  father  calls  a  '  dan- 
gerous experiment.'  Suppose  some  of  them  did  n't  wake  up, 
and  the  rest  of  them  did,  and  they  clubbed  the  life  out  of  us, 
where  would  the  fun  be  then  ? " 

"You  need  n't  quarrel  over  the  glass  dagger  and  the 
policemen,''  Tom  declared,  "because  there  is  n't  any  guard 
to  kill,  this  time." 

"A  buried  treasure  without  any  guard?"  Harry  repeated. 
"  I  never  heard  of  such  a  thing." 

"  Well,"  said  Tom,  "  you  can  hear  of  it  now  if  you  waDt  to 
listen.  But  first  you  have  both  got  to  promise  that  never  by 
thought,  word,  or  deed  will  you  ever  reveal  any  of  the  secrets 
I  am  now  about  to  confide  to  you." 

"  That 's  all  right,"  Cissy  responded,  "  I  won't  say  a  word, 
— never."  Perhaps  this  delayed  double  negative  served  to 
make  the  declaration  doubly  binding. 

"  I  solemnly  vow  that  I  will  never  reveal  the  secret  Thomas 
Paulding  is  now  about  to  confide  to  me,"  said  Harry  Zach- 
ary,  stiffening  his  usual  timid  voice.  "  In  China  they  cut  off 
a  chicken's  head  whenever  a  man  takes  an  oath  before  a 
priest,  and  that  makes  it  binding,  I  reckon.  I  wish  we  had 
a  chicken  here." 

"  I  guess  the  priests  in  China  are  as  fond  of  chicken  as 
anybody  else,"  Cissy  commented.  "Now,  Tom,  tell  us  the 
whole  story." 

So  Tom  began  at  the  beginning,  and  gave  them  all  the 


ENLISTING   ALLIES.  189 

particulars  of  his  search  for  the  stolen  guineas,  of  the  sug- 
gestion Santa  Claus  brought,  of  the  stepping-stones,  and  of 
the  present  situation  of  the  buried  treasure. 

"  That 's  all  very  well/'  said  Cissy.  "  Perhaps  the  money 
is  there,  and  perhaps  it  is  n't.  How  are  you  to  get  at  it? 
That 's  the  question." 

Then  Tom  told  them  about  hydraulic  mining,  explaining 
briefly  to  them  what  he  himself  had  extracted  laboriously 
from  many  books.  He  informed  them  that  his  uncle  was 
going  to  arrange  for  a  supply  of  water,  and  that  Decoration 
Day  had  been  chosen  as  the  date  when  the  final  attack  was 
to  be  made. 

When  Tom  had  finished,  Cissy  said,  "  Well,  that 's  a  very 
interesting  story,  and,  as  I  told  you  before,  maybe  the  money 
is  there.  Leastways,  it 's  worth  trying  for.  I  don't  see  where 
your  uncle  is  going  to  get  the  stream  of  water — but  your 
uncle  is  n't  any  fool,  so  I  guess  he  knows.  And  I  don't  see 
either  where  we  come  in — Harry  and  I.   What  are  we  to  do  ? " 

"  I  don't  know  just  what  you  will  have  to  do,"  Tom  re- 
plied. "  But  Uncle  Dick  said  to  ask  you  and  Harry  if  you 
would  help  us." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  Cissy  responded,  heartily.  "  I  '11  help  all  I  know 
how." 

After  a  little  further  talk  the  boys  started  homeward,  Cissy 
lurching  along  with  his  usual  rolling  gait. 

"  There  's  the  Old  Gentleman  who  leaned  over  the  Wall," 
said  Tom,  as  they  saw  a  tall,  white-haired  man  get  out  of  a 
carriage  before  a  handsome  house. 


190  TOM   PAULDING. 

"  That  's  Mr.  Joshua  Hoffmann,"  explained  Harry  Zach- 
ary.  "  He  's  so  rich  he  has  more  money  than  he  knows  what 
to  do  with." 

"And  my  father  says  there  is  n't  a  better  man  in  the  United 
States,  in  spite  of  all  his  money,"  said  Cissy. 

"  My  uncle  knows  him,  too,"  Tom  remarked,  unwilling  to 
be  left  out  of  the  conversation. 

"  Is  n't  that  your  uncle  now  ? "  asked  Harry. 

Tom  looked  across  the  roadway  and  saw  his  uncle  stop  be- 
fore the  house  ;  and  again  the  old  gentleman  leaned  over  the 
wall  to  talk  to  him. 

"  Yes,"  said  Tom,  "  that  's  Uncle  Dick." 

As  the  boys  went  by  Mr.  Eapallo  waved  his  hand  to  them ; 
and  when  Tom  glanced  back  a  minute  later  it  seemed  as  if 
his  uncle  were  talking  about  him  to  the  Old  Gentleman  who 
leaned  over  the  Wall,  for  the  two  men  were  both  looking 
after  the  three  boys. 

The  next  day,  at  school,  Corkscrew  came  up  to  Tom  as 
Cissy  and  Harry  had  just  joined  him. 

"  Did  you  three  have  a  nice  ride  on  the  railroad,  yesterday 
afternoon  ? "  asked  Lott,  insidiously. 

"  I  was  n't  on  the  cars  at  all  yesterday,"  said  Harry  Zach- 
ary  promptly,  with  a  grave  face. 

"  Neither  was  I,"  continued  Tom  Paulding. 

"  Nor  I,"  added  Cissy  Smith. 

"  I  mean  the  elevated  railroad,"  Corkscrew  explained. 

"  I  did  n't  ride  on  the  elevated  railroad  yesterday,"  Harry 
declared. 


ENLISTING   ALLIES.  191 

"  I  did  n't,  either/'  repeated  both  Tom  and  Cissy 

"Why,  I  saw  yon — "  began  Lott. 

"  Oh,"  said  Tom  Paulding,  "if  you  know  what  we  Ve  been 
doing  better  than  we  do  ourselves,  why  do  you  ask  ques- 
tions ? " 

Corkscrew  was  a  little  confused  at  this.  "  I  happened  to 
be  passing  the  station  yesterday,"  he  said,  pulling  up  the  tops 
of  his  high  boots,  "  and  I  saw  you  three  go  up — " 

"  If  you  saw  us,  then  we  've  nothing  to  say,"  Tom  inter- 
rupted. "  But  I  can  tell  you  that  we  were  none  of  us  in  an 
elevated  train  yesterday." 

"Then  why  on  earth  did  you — " 

But  what  Corkscrew  was  going  to  ask  they  never  knew, 
as  just  then  the  bell  rang  for  school. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


SLAKING   READY. 


R.  RAPALLO  reported  to  Tom  that  the 
title  of  the  vacant  block  was  still  in  dis- 
pute. 

"  There  's  no  knowing,"  he  said,  "  when 
that  lawsuit  will  be  settled.  It  has  been 
going  on  for  seventeen  years  now,  and 
everybody  interested  in  it  has  come  to  hate  everybody  else ; 
and  so  they  persist  in  fighting  like  the  'Kilkenny  cats.'" 

"  Then  we  can't  get  permission  to  look  for  the  two  thou- 
sand guineas?"  Tom  asked,  anxiously. 

"  We  shall  have  to  do  without  permission,"  Uncle  Dick  re- 
plied. "And  I  suppose  that  we  shall  be  trespassers  when 
we  go  into  that  vacant  block  to  dig  up  your  great-grand- 
father's gold." 

"  It  is  n't  our  fault  that  our  money  is  there,"  said  Tom. 
"No,"  his  uncle  responded.  "It  is  n't  our  fault,  and  it 
is  n't  the  fault  of  the  first  owner  of  the  mone}^ ;  whereas  if 
the  first  owner  of  the  land  had  exercised  proper  care  over  it, 
he  would  have  refused  to  harbor  on  it  the  body  of  a  thief 
laden  with  stolen  goods." 


MAKING  READY.  193 

"  When  we  find  the  gold/'  Tom  asked,  "  do  you  think  the 
bags  in  which  it  was  tied  will  still  be  there,  or  will  they  have 
rotted  away  ? " 

"  I  should  n't  wonder  if  the  bags  might  be  gone,"  Mr.  Ra- 
pallo  replied. 

"  That 's  what  I  thought,"  Tom  continued ;  "  and  so  I  have 
bought  some  bagging.  It 's  coarse,  but  it 's  very  strong — 
and  I  don't  think  we  need  care  about  the  looks  —  " 

"  If  the  gold  looks  all  right,"  Uncle  Dick  interrupted,  "  I 
don't  think  it  will  matter  what  we  put  it  in." 

"I  've  asked  Polly  to  make  me  four  bags,  just  the  same 
number  the  money  was  in  when  my  great-grandfather  had 
it,"  said  Tom.  "  Of  course,  I  didn't  tell  her  what  I  wanted 
them  for;  I  don't  believe  in  trusting  women  with  secrets. 
Do  you,  Uncle  Dick?" 

Mr.  Rapallo  smiled.  "  As  I  Ve  told  you  before,"  he 
answered,  "  the  best  way  to  keep  your  secret  safe  is  to  keep 
it  all  to  yourself.  That 's  one  reason  I  have  n't  told  you  yet 
how  I  propose  to  get  the  water  for  our  hydraulic  mining. 
But  come  out  with  me  on  Saturday  afternoon,  and  I  will 
show  you  how  I  mean  to  manage  it." 

Since  his  return  from  his  journey,  Mr.  Rapallo  had  settled 
down  into  his  old  way  of  life  at  his  sister's  house.  He  was 
still  irregular  and  erratic  in  his  comings  and  goings.  When 
he  went  out  in  the  morning,  the  household  never  knew  when 
he  would  return.  Some  days  he  seemed  to  have  little  or 
'nothing  to  do,  and  on  other  days  he  was  apparently  full 
of  engagements.  Knowing  that  Tom  was  free  from  his 
17 


194  TOM   PAULDING. 

duties  only  on  Saturday  afternoon,  lie  arranged  to  have  that 
time  free. 

About  three  o'clock  on  the  Saturday  before  Decoration 
Day,  he  and  Tom  walked  over  to  the  vacant  block  where  the 
stepping-stones  were,  for  a  final  examination  before  they 
should  attempt  to  find  the  buried  treasure. 

The  vacant  block  was  of  dimensions  common  enough  in 
New  York.  It  was  about  two  hundred  feet  wide  from  street 
to  street,  and  nearly  a  thousand  feet  long  from  avenue  to 
avenue.  The  stepping-stones  were  on  the  northern  side  of 
the  block  about  one  third  way  from  the  eastern  end;  and 
over  them  projected  the  tongue  of  made  land  which  had  been 
filled  in  mainly  with  builder's  rubbish.  The  original  level  of 
the  ground  sloped  sharply  from  the  east  to  the  west,  as  the 
brook  had  coursed  briskly  along,  hastening  away  to  the 
Hudson  River. 

Mr.  Rapallo  and  Tom  were  pleased  to  find  what  they  had 
never  noted  before,  perhaps  because  the  entrance  to  it  was 
overrun  with  brambles,  that  a  culvert  had  been  left  to  carry 
off  the  waters  of  the  brook  which  must,  then,  have  been  flow- 
ing when  the  avenue  on  the  western  end  of  the  block  had 
been  earned  across,  high  in  the  air  above  the  original  level 
of  the  land  thereabout. 

The  brook,  still  easily  to  be  traced  by  the  stunted  wil- 
lows that  once  lined  its  bank,  had  dried  up  years  before 
Tom  and  his  uncle  tramped  along  its  bed;  but  the  culvert 
survived. 

"It  is  a  piece  of  good  fortune,"  said  Mr.  Rapallo,  "that 


MAKING   READY.  195 

the  old  outlet  of  the  stream  is  still  here.  It  will  serve  to 
take  away  the  water;  and  now  we  need  not  fear  that  we 
shall  not  have  fall  enough  to  carry  off  the  waste  we  shall 
wash  out  of  the  bank." 

"But  where  are  you  going  to  get  your  water?"  asked 
Tom. 

"  Come  and  see/'  his  uncle  answered,  leading  the  way  from 
the  sunken  lots  to  the  street-level. 

The  stepping-stones  were  perhaps  three  hundred  feet  from 
the  northeast  corner  of  the  block,  and  the  tongue  of  land 
above  them  projected  perhaps  fifty  or  sixty  feet  into  the  hol- 
low parallelogram. 

Mr.  Rapallo  took  Tom  along  the  sidewalk  of  the  street 
which  bounded  the  block  on  the  south,  until  they  came  op- 
posite the  stepping-stones. 

"Here,"  he  said,  laying  his  hand  on  a  sort  of  iron  post 
which  rose  from  the  sidewalk  at  the  edge  of  the  gutter, 
"  what  is  this  ? " 

"  That 's  a  hydrant,"  replied  Tom ;  "  that 's  to  supply  water 
to  the  engines  when  there  's  a  fire." 

"  Then  why  should  n't  it  supply  us  with  the  water  we 
need  ? "  his  uncle  asked. 

"Well,"  Tom  hesitated  a  moment.  "I  suppose  it  would, 
perhaps.  I  don't  see  why  it  should  n't.  But  how  are  you 
going  to  get  a  key  to  turn  it  on  ? " 

"I  've  got  it  already,"  Mr.  Rapallo  answered,  taking  the 
key  from  his  pocket. 

"  Oh ! "  cried  Tom.      "  But  how   are  you   going  to   get 


196  TOM   PAULDING. 

Lose  to  fit  this  hydrant,  and  to  reach  'way  across  the  block 
here  ? " 

"I've  ordered  that,"  Uncle  Dick  replied.  "  I  saw  that  yon 
had  done  all  the  thinking  over  this  problem  and  had  worked 
it  out  for  yourself,  so  I  determined  to  help  you  out  all  I 
could.  I  was  n't  going  to  see  you  fail  for  want  of  a  little  aid 
when  you  needed  it  most." 

"Uncle  Dick,  I  —  "  began  Tom. 

"  I  know  all  about  it,"  said  his  uncle,  checking  Tom's 
thanks  with  a  kindly  pat  on  the  shoulder.  "  You  need  n't 
say  another  word." 

"But — "  the  boy  began  again. 

"  But  me  no  buts,"  laughed  Mr.  Rapallo,  "  or  I  will  not  tell 
you  anything  about  the  hose  I  have  ordered.  There  will  be 
one  section  about  forty  feet  long,  like  fire-engine  hose  and 
made  to  fit  this  hydrant.  Then  I  shall  have  perhaps  a  hun- 
dred and  twenty-five  feet  of  ordinary  garden  hose,  with  a 
valve  and  joint  so  that  we  can  fasten  it  to  the  end  of  the 
larger  hose." 

"  Won't  the  difference  in  size  hinder  us  ? "  Tom  inquired. 

"  I  think  not,"  his  uncle  answered.  "  The  reduction  in  the 
section  of  the  tube  through  which  the  water  is  delivered 
ought  to  increase  the  force  of  the  current  as  it  leaves  the 
nozle  —  and  that  is  just  what  we  want.  The  one  thing  that 
I  am  afraid  of  is  that  the  common  or  garden  hose  won't  be 
able  to  stand  the  strain  put  on  it.  But  we  shall  have  to  take 
our  chances  as  to  that." 

"Is  the  hose  ready?"  asked  Tom. 


MAKING   READY.  197 

"  It  is  to  be  delivered  at  the  house  to-night,"  Mr.  Rapallo 
replied. 

"  But  then  Polly  will  want  to  know  what  it  is,"  Tom  sug- 
gested promptly. 

"  And  I  shall  not  tell  her,"  Uncle  Dick  declared ;  "at  least, 
I  shall  tell  her  only  that  it  is  something  for  me." 

"  Well,"  Tom  continued,  "  I  suppose  that  she  won't  dare  to 
ask  you  too  many  questions.  But  she  '11  be  wild  to  know 
what  it  is." 

On  their  way  home  Tom  asked  'his  uncle  what  time  he 
thought  would  be  the  best  to  begin  work  on  Decoration  Day 
morning. 

"  The  sooner  the  better,"  Mr.  Rapallo  replied. 

"  Before  breakfast  ? "  Tom  inquired. 

"  Before  daybreak  !  "  his  uncle  answered ;  "  that  is  to  say, 
it  ought  to  be  light  enough  for  us  to  work  soon  after  four 
o'clock,  as  the  sun  rises  at  half -past  four." 

"  Oh  !  "  said  Tom,  feeling  that  here  was  an  added  new  ex- 
perience for  him,  as  he  had  never  in  his  life  been  out  of  the 
house  before  six  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

"We  must  get  our  work  done  before  anybody  is  stirring 
about,"  Mr.  Rapallo  explained.  "  That 's  our  only  chance  of 
doing  what  we  have  to  do  without  fear  of  interruption.  We 
don't  want  to  have  a  crowd  about  us  when  we  are  playing 
the  hose  on  that  pile  of  earth  there ;  and  I  think  that  hy- 
draulic mining  in  the  streets  of  New  York  is  novelty  enough 
to  draw  a  crowd  pretty  quickly,  even  in  this  part  of  the  city. 
Fortunately,  there  is  hardly  a  house  near  enough  to  the  place 


198  TOM   PAULDING. 

where  we  are  going  to  mine  to  make  it  likely  that  we  shall 
disturb  any  one  so  early  in  the  morning.  Besides7  we  sha'n't 
make  much  noise." 

"  It's  a  good  thing  that  there  is  n't  a  station  of  the  elevated 
railroad  on  either  of  the  streets  that  go  past  the  place/'  Tom 
remarked.  "  There  are  people  coming  and  going  to  the  sta- 
tions at  all  hours  of  the  night,  so  Cissj^  tells  me.  His  house 
is  just  by  a  station." 

"  I  do  not  think  any  one  is  likely  to  see  us  at  work  unless 
he  suspects  what  we  are  up  to,"  said  Uncle  Dick.  "  By  the 
way,  is  there  any  danger  from  that  inquisitive  boy  you  used 
to  call  Corkscrew?" 

"No,"  Tom  answered.  "I  don't  believe  Corkscrew  Lott 
will  be  up  at  half -past  four — or  at  half -past  six  either." 

"  I  hope  we  shall  have  our  job  done  before  six,"  said  Mr. 
Rapallo. 

"  Of  course,"  Tom  continued,  "  Corkscrew  would  get  up 
over-night  if  he  thought  he  could  pry  out  anything.  But  I 
don't  believe  that  he  will  bother  us  this  time,  because  he  is 
in  bed  with  a  sprained  ankle." 

"Then  we  need  not  worry  about  him,"  Uncle  Dick  re- 
marked. 

"  I  heard  that  he  was  better  this  morning,"  Tom  added, 
doubtfully.     "  Perhaps  he  '11  be  out  by  Decoration  Day." 

Mr.  Rapallo  replied:  "I  do  not  believe  that  there  is 
much  chance  of  this  Corkscrew's  bothering  us;  and  if  he 
does,  why — there  will  be  time  enough  to  attend  to  him 
then." 


MAKING   READY.  199 

And  when  the  time  came,  Uncle  Dick  was  able  to  attend 
to  him. 

On  Monday,  Tom  told  Cissy  Smith  and  Harry  Zachary 
that  all  was  ready  to  begin  work  the  next  morning.  Decora- 
tion Day  came  on  a  Tuesday  that  year. 

"  Shucks  !  "  cried  Cissy,  "  that  lets  me  out.  Pop  will  want 
to  know  where  I  'm  going,  if  I  try  to  get  out  of  the  house 
'  in  the  morning  by  the  bright  light/  as  you  want." 

"And  my  mother  would  never  let  me  go,"  said  Harry 
Zachary;  "at  least  not  without  asking  awkward  ques- 
tions." 

"  I  told  Uncle  Dick  that  I  did  n't  believe  you  two  fellows 
could  get  off ;  and  he  said  he  'd  settle  that." 

"  Pop  would  settle  me,"  Cissy  declared,  "  if  he  caught  me 
at  it," 

"  Uncle  Dick  is  going  to  ask  Dr.  Smith  if  you  can't  spend 
to-night  with  me  so  that  we  can  all  go  off  on  an  expedition 
with  him  in  the  morning." 

"Then  I  guess  it '11  be  all  right,"  Cissy  admitted.  "My 
father  sets  store  by  your  uncle.  He  knew  him  out  in  Den- 
ver, you  know,  and  he  thinks  a  lot  of  him." 

"  And  how  about  me  ? "  asked  Harry  Zachary. 

"  Uncle  Dick  's  fixed  that  too,"  Tom  explained.  "  He  's 
going  to  get  my  mother  to  write  to  your  mother  inviting 
you  over  to  our  house  to  spend  the  night  with  me." 

"  I  reckon  that  '11  do  it,"  responded  Harry. 

"  Uncle  Dick  's  going  to  take  Cissy  into  his  room ;  and 
you  are  to  sleep  with  me,  Harry,"  said  Tom. 


200  TOM   PAULDING. 

"  I  don't  believe  we  shall  sleep  much,"  Cissy  declared ;  "  we 
shall  be  too  excited  to  sleep." 

"  Napoleon  used  to  slumber  soundly  before  his  biggest  and 
bloodiest  battles/'  Harry  Zachary  remarked,  reflectively; 
"  and  I  reckon  it 's  a  good  habit  to  get  into." 

As  it  happened,  the  boys  went  to  bed  far  earlier  than  they 
had  expected.  Mr.  Rapallo  succeeded  in  arranging  with  Dr. 
Smith  that  Cissy  should  be  left  in  his  charge  for  one  night, 
and  Mrs.  Zachary  intrusted  her  son  to  Mrs.  Paulding — to 
whom  Uncle  Dick  gave  no  reason  for  the  invitation  other 
than  that  he  was  going  to  take  the  three  boys  out,  and  that 
they  would  see  the  sun  rise. 

When  Polly  heard  this,  she  wanted  to  go,  too.  But  Mr. 
Rapallo  tactfully  suggested  a  variety  of  reasons  why  she 
should  not  join  the  party ;  and  some  one  of  them  must  have 
struck  the  little  girl  as  adequate,  for  she  did  not  renew  her 
request. 

After  supper — during  which  meal  it  had  been  very  diffi- 
cult for  the  three  boys  to  refrain  from  discussing  the  subject 
they  were  all  thinking  about  —  Mr.  Rapallo  gave  them  each 
a  coil  of  hose,  and  they  set  out  for  the  vacant  block.  There 
was  more  hose  than  could  conveniently  be  carried  at  once  by 
the  four  of  them.  So  they  took  about  half  of  it  the  evening 
before  and  left  it  in  the  open  air,  half-hidden  under  the 
bushes.  There  was  no  moon,  and  Mr.  Rapallo  thought  that 
it  would  be  perfectly  safe  to  trust  the  hose  at  night  in  a  place 
where  nobody  was  likely  to  go. 

When  they  had  returned  to  the  house  it  was  barely  eight 


MAKING   REvVDY.  203 

o'clock,  but  Uncle  Dick  promptly  sent  the  boys  off  to  bed ; 
—  or  rather,  he  led  the  way  himself,  answering  their  protests 
by  the  assertion  that  they  would  need  all  the  sleep  they  could 
get.  He  declared  that  he  was  not  going  to  have  his  work- 
men too  sleepy  to  see  what  they  were  about  in  the  morning. 

He  set  them  the  example  himself,  and  all  four  were  sound 
asleep  before  nine  o'clock. 

They  had  had  nearly  seven  hours'  slumber  when  Mr. 
Rapallo  roused  them.  In  the  gray  dawn — which  struck 
them  as  being  colder  and  darker  than  they  had  expected — 
the  boys  dressed  themselves  hastily.  They  gladly  ate  the 
bread  and  butter  that  Uncle  Dick  had  ready  for  them,  and 
each  drank  a  glass  or  two  of  milk. 

Then  they  crept  softly  downstairs  and  out  into  the  garden. 
Mr.  Rapallo  divided  the  rest  of  the  hose  among  them,  and 
added  to  his  own  load  three  light  spades  and  a  pickax. 

Thus  the  procession  set  out.  Tom's  heart  had  already  be- 
gun to  beat  with  alternating  hopes  and  doubts ;  he  was  in 
haste  to  get  at  the  work  and  to  find  the  buried  treasure  as 
soon  as  might  be.  Cissy  Smith  and  Harry  Zachary  had  a 
boyish  delight  in  the  pleasantly  romantic  flavor  of  the  ad- 
venture. To  them  it  was  as  if  they  were  knights-errant 
going  to  a  rescue,  or  scouts  setting  out  on  a  scalp-hunt,  or,  per- 
haps, pirates  making  ready  for  a  sea-fight  against  a  Spanish 
galleon  laden  with  doubloons.  Harry  Zachary's  imagination 
was  the  more  active ;  but  in  his  own  way  Cissy  Smith  took 
quite  as  much  enjoyment  in  the  situation. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


JEFFREY    KERR'S   BOOTY. 


HEY  walked  on  as  the  gray  dawn  was 
breaking  with  a  faint,  rosy  tinge  in  the 
eastern  sky.  Two  abreast,  they  bore  with 
them  the  implements  of  their  new  craft. 
Tied  in  a  bundle  and  slung  over  his  shoul- 
der, Tom  had  also  the  bags  in  which  to 
put  the  buried  treasure. 

When  they  had  come  to  the  vacant  block  they  set  down 
part  of  the  hose  on  the  sidewalk.  The  rest  they  carried  with 
them  down  the  steep  sides  of  the  parallelogram. 

The  first  thing  Tom  and  Mr.  Rapallo  did  was  to  make  sure 
that  the  things  which  had  been  brought  over-night  were  still 
there.     Apparently  no  one  had  touched  these. 

"  Now,  boys,"  cried  Uncle  Dick,  "  I  '11  go  to  work  and  get 
the  hose  ready,  while  you  dig  me  a  trench  to  carry  off  the 
water  and  the  waste  it  will  wash  down." 

The  stepping-stones  crossed  what  had  been  the  middle  of 
a  wide  pool  into  which  the  brook  had  broadened.  A  little 
below,  the  ground  sloped  away  sharply.     As  Tom  believed 


JEFFREY  KERR'S   BOOTY.  205 

that  the  body  of  Jeffrey  Kerr  lay  at  the  bottom  of  the  pool, 
covered  with  sand,  it  was  needful  to  remove  not  only  the 
later  rubbish,  shot  down  from  the  street  when  the  projecting 
tongue  of  land  was  made  out  into  the  block,  but  also  to  get 
a  fall  of  water  sufficient  to  carry  off  the  sand  at  the  bottom 
of  the  pool. 

Fortunately,  this  was  not  a  difficult  task.  By  digging  a 
trench  a  foot  wide  around  a  rock  which  had  retarded  the 
stream,  and  by  carrying  it  along  less  than  twenty  feet,  the 
natural  declivity  of  the  ground  would  then  bear  the  water 
off  to  the  open  culvert  at  the  end  of  the  block. 

Mr.  Rapallo  consulted  with  the  boys  as  to  the  best  course 
of  this  little  trench.  Then  he  roughly  traced  its  path  with 
the  point  of  the  pick,  loosening  the  earth  here  and  there 
where  it  seemed  more  than  ordinarily  compact.  They  set  to 
work  with  the  spades  he  had  brought,  while  he  went  over  to 
make  ready  the  hose.  The  sections  of  common  kind  were 
first  unrolled  and  stretched  out  across  the  block  from  the 
hydrant  toward  the  point  of  attack.  He  screwed  them  firmly 
together.  Then  he  went  up  to  the  hydrant  and  fastened  to 
it  the  section  of  heavier  hose,  to  the  lower  end  of  which  was 
affixed  a  screw- joint  to  receive  the  end  of  the  garden  hose. 
By  the  aid  of  this,  Mr.  Rapallo  joined  the  two  kinds;  and 
he  had  then  a  flexible  tube  more  than  a  hundred  and  fifty 
feet  long,  with  the  hydrant  at  one  end  and  a  broad  nozle  at 
the  other. 

When  he  had  thus  prepared  the  hose  for  its  work,  he 
went  over  to  the  trench  to  see  how  the  boys  were  getting  on. 
18 


206  TOM  PAULDING. 

By  this  time  the  sun  had  risen  and  was  visible,  a  dull  red 
ball  glowing"  in  the  east  and  slowly  climbing  the  sky. 

"Are  you  all  ready?"  cried  Tom,  as  his  uncle  came  up. 

"I  can  turn  on  the  water  now  if  you  have  the  trench 
done,"  was  the  answer. 

The  boys  had  followed  the  hue  Mr.  Rapallo  had  traced, 
and,  working  with  the  eagerness  and  enthusiastic  strength 
of  youth,  they  had  dug  a  ditch  both  broader  and  deeper  than 
he  had  declared  to  be  necessary. 

"  That 's  excellent,"  said  Uncle  Dick,  when  he  saw  what 
they  had  done.     "  It  could  n't  be  better." 

"  Shall  we  knock  off  now  ? "  asked  Cissy. 

"You  need  n't  do  anything  more  to  the  trench,"  Mr. 
Rapallo  answered.  "That  is  just  right.  Gather  up  the 
spades  and  take  them  back  out  of  the  way  of  the  water." 

Then  as  they  drew  back  he  explained  what  he  proposed 
next.  What  they  needed  to  do  was  to  lay  bare  the  original 
surface  of  the  pool  by  the  stepping-stones.  To  do  that  they 
would  have  to  wash  out  a  hole  in  the  bank  at  least  twenty 
feet  broad,  perhaps  fifteen  high,  and  certainly  ten  feet  deep. 

"  Can  you  do  that  with  the  hose  ? "  asked  Cissy,  doubt- 
fully. 

"  I  think  so,"  Mr.  Rapallo  answered.  "  Luckily,  we  shall 
have  a  strong  head  of  water.  Owing  to  the  work  on  the 
new  aqueduct,  part  of  the  supply  for  this  portion  of  the  city 
has  been  shut  off  below  us  for  three  or  four  days,  so  that 
hereabout  there  is  a  very  full  pressure.  What  I  'm  most  in 
doubt  about  is  whether  this  small  hose  will  stand  it.     We 


JEFFREY   KERR'S   BOOTY.  207 

might  as  well  find  out  as  soon  as  possible.  Tom,  you  can 
take  this  key  and  turn  on  the  hydrant  up  there." 

Tom  hastily  grasped  the  key,  and  sprang  away  across  the 
open  space.  In  a  minute  he  had  climbed  to  the  street  and 
turned  on  the  water. 

Mr.  Rapallo  seized  the  hose  by  the  long  brass  nozle  and 
stood  pointing  it  firmly  toward  the  bank  of  earth  before  him. 
As  Tom  opened  the  valve  of  the  hydrant,  the  long  line  of 
hose  stiffened  and  filled  out.  There  was  a  whishing  of  air 
out  of  the  nozle  as  the  water  rushed  into  the  flexible  tube. 
At  the  juncture  of  the  larger  hose  with  the  smaller  the 
joint  was  not  tight,  and  a  fine  spray  filled  the  air. 

"  Let  7s  see  if  you  can  tighten  that,"  cried  Mr.  Rapallo  to 
Cissy,  who  ran  back  at  once  and  succeeded  in  stopping  the 
leak. 

Then  the  smaller  hose  distended  to  the  utmost.  But  Mr. 
Rapallo's  fears  were  nearly  groundless,  for  it  was  stanch  and 
stood  the  strain. 

It  seemed  but  a  second  after  Tom  had  turned  the  handle 
of  the  hydrant  that  a  stout  stream  of  water  gushed  solidly 
from  the  end  of  the  pipe  and  curved  in  a  powerful  arch 
toward  the  bank  before  them. 

Uncle  Dick  turned  the  stream  upon  the  lower  end  of  the 
trench  the  boys  had  dug,  and  in  a  minute  he  had  washed  it 
out  to  double  its  former  capacity. 

On  his  way  back  Tom  joined  Cissy  and  assisted  him  to 
tighten  the  valve  which  united  the  two  kinds  of  hose.  Harry 
Zachary  had  been  helping  Mr.  Rapallo  to  get  the  end  of  the 


208  TOM   PAULDING. 

tube  into  working  order,  adjusting  the  curves  and  straight- 
ening it,  so  that  the  utmost  force  of  the  water  might  be 
available. 

When  he  had  washed  out  the  trench,  Mr.  Rapallo  raised 
the  nozle  carefully  and  directed  the  stream  full  at  the  center 
of  the  bank  before  him,  striking  it  at  what  had  been  the  level 
of  the  ground  before  the  filling-in.  The  water  plunged  into 
the  soft  earth,  and  in  less  than  five  minutes  it  had  washed 
out  a  large  cave  five  or  six  feet  deep. 

Then  Uncle  Dick  brought  the  force  of  the  current  again 
into  the  ditch,  which  had  partly  filled  up.  The  stream, 
adroitly  applied  first  at  the  lower  end,  swept  out  the  trench 
as  if  a  giant  were  at  work  on  it  with  a  huge  broom. 

Turning  the  water  again  on  the  bank  of  earth,  Mr.  Rapallo 
loosened  the  overhanging  roof  of  the  cavern  he  had  first 
made,  and  it  fell  in  soft  heaps  as  the  stream  bored  its  way 
into  the  mound  of  earth.  The  hose  removed  the  dirt  faster 
than  a  dozen  men  could  have  shoveled  it  away ;  and  a  little 
attention  now  and  then  served  to  spread  the  stuff  washed 
out  over  the  lower  part  of  the  vacant  block,  leaving  open  a 
channel  by  which  the  water  could  make  its  escape  to  the 
culvert. 

Minute  by  minute  the  cavity  in  the  tongue  of  made  land 
grew  larger  and  larger,  and  the  rubbish  dumped  there  — 
ashes,  builder's  dirt,  even  old  bits  of  brick  and  odds  and  ends 
of  broken  plaster — seemed  to  melt  away  under  the  impact 
of  the  curving  current  of  water. 

The  sun  slowly  rose,  and  its  early  rays  fell  on  this  bend- 


JEFFREY   KERR'S   BOOTY.  209 

ing  fountain,  which  sparkled  as  if  it  were  a  string  of  dia- 
monds. As  yet  not  a  single  passer-by  had  disturbed  them  at 
their  work.  But  now  and  again  the  rattle  of  an  early  milk- 
cart  could  be  heard  in  the  morning  quiet. 

Once,  when  the  bulk  of  the  earth  to  be  removed  was  nearly 
gone,  Harry  Zachary  tapped  Mr.  Rapallo  on  the  shoulder 
and  pointed  to  the  avenue  on  the  west  of  them.  Uncle  Dick 
turned  off  the  flow  at  once,  and  in  the  silence  they  heard  the 
wagon  of  a  market-gardener  come  rumbling  toward  them. 
Mr.  Rapallo  raised  his  hand  and  they  all  sheltered  themselves 
hastily  under  the  shadow  of  the  bank  until  the  intruder  had 
passed  on  out  of  hearing. 

As  Uncle  Dick  turned  on  the  water  again  he  said,  "  We  've 
been  very  lucky,  so  far.  But  as  soon  as  we  get  this  first  job 
done  I  think  we  had  better  put  out  sentinels." 

In  a  few  minutes  more  the  heap  of  dirt  was  washed  away 
and  the  original  level  of  the  ground  was  laid  bare  up  to  the 
edge  of  the  tall  rock  by  the  side  of  which  Tom  hoped  to  find 
his  great-grandfather's  guineas. 

Uncle  Dick  thoroughly  cleaned  out  the  trench  again  and 
then  turned  off  the  stream. 

"  Now,  Tom,"  he  said,  "  here  we  've  got  down  to  the  sur- 
face of  the  soil  as  it  used  to  be.  We  are  now  standing  on 
what  was  the  bottom  of  the  brook  before  it  dried  up. 
Where  had  we  best  begin  on  this  ? " 

"Here,"  Tom  answered,  pointing  to  the  base  of  the  tall 
rock.  "  At  least  it  seems  to  me  that  if  a  man  tried  to  cross 
on  those  stepping-stones  there,  and  got  washed  off  by  the 


210  TOM   PAULDING. 

brook,  his  body  would  be  earned  into  the  pool  there,  and  then 
rolled  over  and  over  and  nearer  and  nearer  to  that  rock." 

"Well,"  Uncle  Dick  returned,  "I  think  that's  the  place, 
myself.  But  we  must  clear  away  here  so  that  the  water  can 
get  in  its  fine  work." 

He  took  the  pickax  and  loosened  a  few  stones  and  pried 
them  out.  The  boys  opened  another  trench  leading  down  to 
the  first  ditch. 

When  this  was  done,  Mr.  Rapallo  said,  "  We  shall  know  in 
ten  minutes  now  whether  Tom  has  located  his  mine  properly, 
or  whether  the  claim  is  to  be  abandoned." 

Tom  was  excited,  and  his  voice  shook  as  he  answered,  "  Go 
ahead,  Uncle  Dick ;  the  sooner  I  know  the  better." 

"  I  think  we  ought  to  have  outposts,"  Mr.  Rapallo  declared. 
"  Cissy,  will  you  keep  your  eyes  open  for  any  one  approach- 
ing from  the  south  or  east  ?  Harry,  you  take  charge  of  the 
north  side  and  the  west.     Tom,  stay  with  me." 

This  last  admonition  was  hardly  necessary,  as  it  would 
have  been  difficult  to  make  Tom  move  a  step  just  then. 

Cissy  went  back  to  the  left  of  the  group  and  looked  about 
him.  Harry  withdrew  a  little  to  the  right.  But  the  fascina- 
tion of  expectancy  was  upon  them  both,  and  they  kept  a 
most  negligent  watch.  They  had  eyes  only  for  the  stream 
of  water,  as  Mr.  Rapallo  turned  it  on  again  and  as  it  tore  its 
way  into  the  compact  sand  which  had  formed  the  bottom  of 
the  brook.  Only  now  and  then  did  they  recall  their  ap- 
pointed duties,  and  then  they  would  give  but  a  hasty  glance 
around. 


JEFFREY  KERR'S  BOOTY. 


211 


The  water  washed  out  the  edge  of  the  bottom  of  the  pool, 
and  Mr.  Rapallo  was  able  to  expose  a  depth  of  fully  five  feet, 
into  which  the  stream  was  steadily  eating  its  way.  As  the 
open  space  approached  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  tall  rock  at 
the  base  of  which  Tom  hoped  to  find  the  buried  treasure, 
his  heart  began  to  beat,  and  he  pressed  forward  in  his  eager- 
ness to  be  the  first  to  see  whatever  might  have  been  hidden 
in  the  sand  of  the  brook. 

When  about  two  yards  only  remained  between  the  tall 
rock  and  the  widening  breach  made  by  the  water,  he  thought 
he  caught  sight  of  something  white.  With  a  cry  he  sprang 
forward,  and  the  stream  of  water  washed  away  the  sand 
which  had  concealed  the  bones  of  a  human  foot  and  leg. 

At  that  moment  there  came  a  whistle  from  Cissy  Smith : 


^E 


£ 


In  a  second,  as  it  seemed,  this  was  followed  by  a  second 
warning  from  Harry  Zachary : 


^ 


^ 


Involuntarily,  Tom  whistled  the  answer : 


Then  he  looked  at  Cissy,  who  was  pointing  to  the  figure  of 
a  man  standing  on  the  sidewalk  behind  them,  within  a  yard 
of  the  hydrant. 


212 


TOM   PAULDING. 


Mr.  Rapallo  looked  also,  and  then  waved  his  hand.     The 
man  waved  back. 

"  That 's  all  right;'  said  Uncle  Dick. 

Something  in  the  man's  gesture  seemed  familiar  to  Tom 


as  he  saw  it  indistinctly  in  the  grow- 
ing light  of  the  morning. 

"Is  n't  that  the  Old  Gentleman    «.1N  A  SECOND  m  WAS  S0AKB 
who  leaned  over  the  Wall  ? "  he  asked.  through." 

"Yes/'  his  uncle  replied.  "And  isn't  that  your  friend 
Corkscrew?"  he  continued,  indicating  a  tall  figure  in  high 
boots  who  was  then  advancing  out  on  the  tongue  of  made 
land  before  them. 

This  was  the  stranger  Harry  Zacharv  had  seen  when  it 


JEFFREY   KERR'S   BOOTY.  213 

was  too  late.  As  this  visitor  came  to  the  edge  of  the  hollow 
wliich  they  had  washed  out,  they  knew  that  it  was  Corkscrew 
Lott. 

"  What 's  he  doing  here  ? "  Tom  wondered.  "  I  thought  he 
was  in  bed  with  a  sprained  foot." 

"  I  '11  send  him  to  bed  again  with  a  shock  of  surprise/'  said 
Mr.  Rapallo,  raising  the  nozle  again  and  turning  on  the 
stream. 

As  it  gushed  forth  Uncle  Dick  aimed  it  full  and  square  at 
Corkscrew,  and  it  took  the  intruder  first  in  the  chest  and  then 
in  the  face.  In  a  second  he  was  soaked  through.  He  turned 
and  twisted  and  staggered  back,  but  Mr.  Rapallo  never  re- 
lented. The  full  stream  was  kept  steadily  on  the  inquisitive 
visitor  until  the  tall  boy  crawled  out  on  the  sidewalk  and 
started  home  on  a  full  run. 

As  soon  as  he  was  out  of  sight,  Tom  cried  to  Mr.  Rapallo, 
"  Turn  it  on  the  place  where  it  was  before,  Uncle  Dick ;  I 
think  I  saw  a  bone  there  !  " 

"  I  thought  so,  too,"  Mr.  Rapallo  replied,  as  the  full  head 
of  water  began  searching  again  in  the  sand. 

Tom  ran  forward  as  far  as  he  could,  and  in  a  moment  he 
gave  a  cry  of  joy;  for  the  water  was  uncovering  a  human 
skeleton,  and  among  the  bones  he  had  caught  a  glitter  of 
gold. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE   "WORKING  HYPOTHESIS." 


R.  RAPALLO  instantly  turned  the  valve 
in  the  nozle  of  the  tube  and  shut  off  the 
water.  He  threw  down  the  hose  and 
sprang  forward  to  see  what  had  been  dis- 
covered. 

There  in  the  sand  were  the  lower  bones 
of  a  human  skeleton,  bleached  white  by  time.  The  feet  were 
already  separated  by  the  action  of  the  water,  and  the  shin- 
bones  were  detached  at  the  knees. 

The  three  boys  stood  by  the  side  of  Mr.  Rapallo,  looking 
with  intense  interest  at  these  relics  of  what  had  once  been  a 
fellow  human-being.  Amid  the  sand,  and  by  the  side  of  a 
thigh-bone  half  uncovered  by  the  stream  of  water,  lay  a  dozen 
or  more  yellow  coins. 

Tom  Paulding  came  closer,  stooped  and  picked  these  out. 
They  were  dull,  most  of  them,  from  their  long  burial  in  the 
earth,  and  some  of  them  were  covered  with  mold  or  incrusted 
with  rusty  earth.  But  one  had  been  protected,  perhaps  by 
its  position  in  the  center  of  the  bag ;  and  this  one  glittered 
as  the  early  rays  of  the  sun  fell  on  it. 


THE    "WORKING   HYPOTHESIS."  217 

The  boy  held  it  out  to  Mr.  Rapallo.  "This  is  a  guinea, 
Uncle  Dick.  I  have  seen  pictures  of  them,"  he  cried.  "  And 
see,  the  portrait  of  Georgius  III." 

Mr.  Rapallo  took  the  coin  and  looked  at  it  carefully,  turn- 
ing it  over.  "  It  seems  a  little  queer  somehow,"  he  remarked, 
"  but  it  is  a  George  the  Third  guinea.  There  can  be  no  doubt 
of  that." 

"  Then  my  guess  was  right,"  Tom  said ;  "  and  we  have  found 
Jeffrey  Kerr." 

"  The  '  working  hypothesis '  worked  excellently,"  his  uncle 
answered.  "  This  must  be  the  skeleton  of  Jeffrey  Kerr,  and 
these  are  the  guineas  he  stole.  The  punishment  followed 
hard  on  the  crime ;  and  it  was  the  weight  of  the  stolen  money 
which  caused  his  death  here  at  the  bottom  of  the  pool  a  few 
minutes  after  the  theft,  and  when  it  seemed  as  if  he  had 
made  his  escape  and  got  off  scot-free.  The  retribution  was 
swift  enough  for  once ;  and  the  manner  of  it  worked  out  a 
singular  case  of  poetic  justice." 

"These  six  or  seven  coins  are  not  all  the  monej7,  I  sup- 
pose ? "  asked  Cissy. 

"Of  course  not,"  Tom  declared;  "there  are  two  thousand 
of  them  in  all.     We  shall  find  them  safe  enough  now." 

"  Shall  I  play  the  hose  for  you  ? "  Harry  Zachary  inquired. 

"No,"  Mr.  Rapallo  answered.  "I  think  we  must  abandon 
Our  hydraulic  mining  now.  I  'm  afraid  the  force  of  the 
stream  of  water  might  wash  away  the  coins  before  w7e  could 
get  at  them.  We  have  found  the  gold  now,  and  we  had  best 
dig  it  out  carefully  ourselves." 
19 


21 S  TOM   PAULDING. 

He  himself  took  the  pickax,  and  gently  loosened  all  the 
earth  about  the  upper  part  of  the  skeleton,  which  was  not 
as  yet  uncovered.  Then,  with  the  spades,  the  boys  very  cau- 
tiously removed  the  sand  from  about  the  bones  of  the  dead 
man's  body.  Every  spadeful  taken  away  was  sifted  through 
their  fingers,  and  a  little  pile  of  guineas  began  to  heap  up 
near  the  skull,  where  Tom  had  laid  the  bags  he  had  brought 
to  carry  home  the  treasure  when  he  should  find  it.  The  stolen 
money  had  been  tied  in  four  bags  originally ;  and  they  dis- 
covered the  coins  in  four  separate  heaps,  but  they  had  been 
slightly  scattered  in  the  century  and  more  between  the  loss 
of  the  guineas  by  Nicholas  Paulding  and  their  recovery  by 
his  great-grandson. 

Two  of  these  little  heaps  of  coins  were  close  together  under 
the  thighs  of  the  skeleton ;  and  it  was  from  one  of  these 
heaps  that  the  first  glittering  guinea  had  been  washed  out, 

"  Uncle  Dick,"  said  Tom,  as  they  picked  up  these  coins  and 
put  them  in  the  bags,  "  do  you  remember  that  one  of  the  pa- 
pers I  showed  you  said  that  Jeffrey  Kerr  had  on  a  big  over- 
coat with  pockets  ? " 

"  Yes,"  Mr.  Rapallo  answered ;   ':  what  of  it  ? " 

"Well,"  returned  Tom,  "I  should  n't  wonder  if  these  two 
piles  of  gold  here  under  the  body  were  once  in  the  two  of  the 
bags  which  he  had  put  into  the  pockets  of  his  coat." 

"  I  see,"  Mr.  Rapallo  responded ;  "  and  you  think  these 
pockets  it  was  that  weighted  him  down  when  he  strug- 
gled for  life  in  the  swift  waters  of  the  swollen  brook?  I 
think  it  very  likely." 


THE    "WORKING  HYPOTHESIS."  219 

The  two  other  heaps  were  not  so  near  together.  The  bags 
containing  the  coins  in  these  piles  had  apparently  been  held 
in  his  hands  until  the  thief  fell  into  the  stream  as  he  was 
crossing  the  stepping-stones.  With  an  involuntary  clutch 
he  had  carried  them  with  him  as  he  went  down  into  the  pool. 
Perhaps  he  had  then  released  them  in  his  efforts  to  get  free, 
perhaps  they  also  had  been  attached  to  his  person. 

"  It  may  be  that  the  man  did  not  make  any  struggle  at 
all,"  said  Mr.  Rapallo,  as  they  discussed  these  queries  while 
gathering  the  coins  together  and  putting  them  in  the  new 
bags.  "  He  was  fired  on  twice,  remember ;  and  at  the  second 
shot  the  sentry  heard  a  cry  of  pain.  Now  it  may  be  that  he 
was  wounded  and  faint,  and  so  had  no  strength  left." 

"I  wonder — "  Harry  Zachary  remarked,  as  he  went  up  to 
the  bones  and  began  to  examine  them  carefully.  "  I  reckon 
you  're  right,  Mr.  Rapallo,"  he  cried  a  minute  later.  "  That 
second  shot  took  him  in  the  shoulder." 

"  How  do  you  know  ? "  asked  Cissy  Smith,  skeptically. 

"  Here 's  the  hole  in  the  bone,"  Harry  answered ;  "  and  here 
is  the  bullet  that  made  it."  And  with  that  he  pulled  out  a 
large  leaden  ball  that  had  been  fast  to  the  shoidcler -blade. 

"  Then  there  can  be  no  doubt  now,"  said  Mr.  Rapallo,  "as 
to  the  identity  of  the  skeleton  before  us,  as  to  the  cause  of 
his  death,  and  as  to  the  ownership  of  this  gold.  The  more 
we  discover  about  this,  the  more  closely  does  everything  fit 
together  in  accordance  with  Tom's  f  working  hypothesis.' " 

When  they  had  picked  up  the  last  coin  in  the  four  heaps, 
and  after  they  had  searched  the  sand  below  and  on  all  sides 


220  TOM   PAULDING. 

without  finding  a  single  separate  guinea,  Mr.  Rapallo  said  at 
last,  "  I  think  our  work  is  done.  There  is  no  use  in  our  lin- 
gering here  and  looking  for  more." 

"  There  have  been  three  more  carts  along  here  in  the 
last  ten  minutes,"  Cissy  remarked ;  "  and  I  think  it  is 
about  time  for  us  to  light  out,  if  we  don't  want  a  crowd 
about  us." 

"  That's  so,"  Tom  replied.  "  There  may  be  a  dozen  people 
down  here  before  we  know  it." 

u  yerv  Well,"  Mr.  Rapallo  responded ;  "we  may  get  away  at 
once.  But  first  let  us  at  least  give  these  poor  bones  a  decent 
burial-place.  They  belonged  to  a  thief  who  died  almost  in 
the  act  of  stealing ;  but  he  was  our  fellow-man,  after  all,  and 
we  must  do  by  him  as  we  may  hope  to  be  done  by." 

Tom  dug  a  light  trench  in  the  sand  almost  exactly  where 
they  had  first  seen  the  skeleton,  and  Harry  Zachary  gathered 
the  bones  together  and  placed  them  reverently  in  the  grave. 
Then  Cissy  and  Tom  shoveled  sand  over  the  skeleton,  hiding 
it  from  all  prying  eyes  and  heaping  over  it  a  mound,  like 
those  seen  in  cemeteries. 

When  this  was  done  decently  and  in  order,  Mr.  Rapallo 
bade  the  boys  collect  the  spades  and  the  pickax.  He  went 
back  to  the  hydrant  and  turned  off  the  water.  Then  he  took 
off  the  hose  and  threw  it  over  into  the  vacant  block.  Join- 
ing the  boys  again,  he  unfastened  the  section  of  the  hose  to 
which  the  nozle  was  attached,  and  this  he  coiled  up  to  take 
away  with  him. 

"  We  '11  come  back  for  the  rest  of  the  hose  when  it  is  dark," 


THE    "WORKING    HYPOTHESIS."  221 

he  explained.  "  For  the  present,  we  '11  leave  it  here.  I  doubt 
whether  anybody  will  notice  it." 

Then  they  took  up  their  march  homeward.  Tom  Paulding 
carried  two  bags  of  the  recovered  guineas,  but  his  heart  was 
so  light  that  it  seemed  to  him  as  if  three  times  their  weight 
would  be  no  burden.  Cissy  Smith  and  Harry  Zachary  had 
each  one  of  the  other  two  bags.  The  boys  also  divided  be- 
tween them  the  pickax  and  the  spades,  as  Mr.  Rapallo  was 
heavily  laden  with  a  coil  of  hose. 

They  had  kept  no  count  of  time  while  they  had  been  at 
work,  and  the  hours  had  passed  over  them  unperceived.  The 
sun  now  rode  high  on  the  horizon.  The  roar  of  the  great 
city  rose  on  the  air,  only  a  little  less  resounding  because  the 
day  was  a  holiday.  The  rattle  of  carts  in  the  neighboring 
streets  was  frequent,  so  was  the  rolling  of  the  trains  on  the 
elevated  railroad.  The  city  was  awake  again,  and  it  was 
making  ready  to  honor  the  dead  heroes  of  the  war,  and  to 
deck  their  graves  with  green  garlands  and  with  the  bright 
flowers  of  the  spring-time. 

"If  you  don't  mind,  Tom,"  said  Harry  Zachary,  as  they 
walked  side  by  side,  "  I  'd  like  to  keep  the  bullet." 

"  What  bullet  ? "  asked  Tom,  in  surprise. 

"  The  ball  I  found  in  the  dead  man's  shoulder,"  Harry  ex- 
plained. 

"  But  it  does  n't  belong  to  me,"  Tom  declared.  "  You 
found  it.     I  suppose  you  've  a  right  to  it." 

"I  want  to  keep  it,"  Harry  responded;  "it  's  a  curious 
thing  to  have  in  the  house ;  and  I  reckon  it  's  a  talisman." 


222  TOM   PAULDING. 

"  A  talisman  ¥ "  repeated  Tom. 

"Yes,"  Harry  answered,  "like  those  they  have  in  the  old 
stories — something  that  will  defend  you  from  evil  and  bring 
you  luck. " 

"  Shucks  !  "  said  Cissy  Smith,  forcibly.  "  Why  should  that 
old  bullet  bring  you  any  more  luck  than  it  brought  Jeffrey 
Ken*  ?  And  it  brought  him  to  the  bottom  of  the  creek,  and 
it  left  him  there." 

"  I  can  keep  it  if  I  want  it,  I  reckon,"  Harry  remarked, 
placidly. 

"  Uncle  Dick,"  Tom  asked,  "  was  n't  that  the  Old  Gentleman 
who  leaned  over  the  Wall — the  man  who  stood  by  the  hy- 
drant just  as  we  found  the  gold  ? " 

"Yes,"  Mr.  Rapallo  answered;  "that  was  Joshua  Hoff- 
mann." 

"  I  did  n't  see  him  go  away,"  Tom  continued.  "  I  wonder 
how  long  he  stayed  there." 

"I  'd  like  to  know  how  he  came  to  be  there  at  all,"  cried 
Cissy  Smith. 

"  That  's  so,"  Tom  declared.  "  How  did  he  know  what  we 
were  going  to  do  ? " 

Mr.  Rapallo  did  not  answer  this  direct  question.  Indeed, 
he  parried  it  by  another. 

"How  did  your  friend  Corkscrew  happen  to  get  up  so 
early  ? "  he  asked. 

"I  guess  he  won't  feel  encouraged  to  try  it  again," 
said  Cissy.  "  You  soused  him  well !  Oh,  how  he  did 
twist  and  squirm  when  you  turned  the  hose  full  on  him ! 


THE    "WOKKING  HYPOTHESIS."  223 

It  was  more  fun  than  the  circus."  And  Cissy  laughed 
heartily  at  the  recollection  of  Corkscrew's  ludicrous  ap- 
pearance. 

So  did  the  other  boys;  and  Mr.  Rapallo  joined  in  their 
merriment. 

"  He  did  look  a  little  surprised,"  said  Uncle  Dick.  "  I  don't 
believe  he  had  expected  quite  so  cold  a  welcome." 

"  If  Corkscrew  had  only  sprained  his  tongue  instead  of  his 
foot,"  suggested  Cissy,  "  so  that  he  could  n't  ask  any  more 
questions,  it  would  be  money  in  his  pocket." 

"  I  'd  like  to  ask  a  question  myself,"  Tom  declared.  "  I  'd 
like  to  know  how  Corkscrew  got  news  of  our  enterprise.  I 
did  n't  tell  him." 

There  was  a  guilty  silence  on  the  part  of  Harry  Zachary, 
as  if  he  thought  that  possibly  something  he  might  have 
hinted  had  been  sufficient  to  bring  Lott  out  of  his  bed  at 
daybreak,  in  the  hope  of  finding  out  something  he  was  not 
meant  to  know. 

By  this  time  they  had  come  to  the  flight  of  wooden  steps 
which  led  from  the  sidewalk  to  the  knob  of  sand  on  which 
stood  Mrs.  Paulding's  house. 

"  Now,  boys,"  said  Mr.  Rapallo,  "  I  have  to  thank  you  for 
the  assistance  you  have  been  to  us  —  " 

"  Yes,"  almost  interrupted  Tom,  "  I  'm  ever  so  much  obliged 
to  you  both." 

"I  don't  know  what  we  should  have  done  without  your 
aid,"  Mr.  Rapallo  continued. 

"  Oh,  that 's  nothing,"  said  Cissy  Smith. 


224  TOM   PAULDING. 

"  We  'd  do  twice  as  much  if  we  could,"  said  Harry  Zachary. 

"  Now  I  've  got  to  ask  one  more  favor/'  Mr.  Rapallo  went 
on.     "  I  want  you  to  promise  me  one  thing." 

"  We  '11  promise,"  replied  Cissy. 

"  Of  course,"  declared  Harry. 

"  I  want  you  to  promise  me,"  said  Uncle  Dick,  "  not  to  tell 
anybody  about  this  morning's  work." 

"  What  ? "  cried  Cissy,  "  not  tell  anybody  ? " 

"Not  ever  tell?"  Harry  asked. 

It  was  obvious  that  both  lads  were  grievously  disappointed, 
as  they  had  hoped  to  set  forth  the  whole  story  to  all  their 
friends,  with  every  interesting  detail.  Very  few  boys  in 
New  York  ever  had  a  hand  in  the  recovery  of  buried  treas- 
ure ;  if  they  had  to  keep  their  share  secret,  Cissy  and  Harry 
both  felt  that  they  were  deprived  of  the  advantage  of  the  un- 
usual situation. 

"Not  for  the  present,"  Mr.  Rapallo  said.  "Of  course  I 
know  you  will  want  to  describe  everything  to  your  parents ; 
and  so  you  shall.     But  not  to-day." 

"  To-morrow,  then  ? "  asked  Harry. 

"  Perhaps  you  may  tell  to-morrow,"  Mr.  Rapallo  replied. 
"It  is  for  the  present  only  that  I  ask  for  secrecy.  As  soon 
as  I  can  release  you  from  the  promise,  I  will." 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  said  Cissy,  frankly ;   "  I  '11  promise." 

"  So  will  I,"  said  Harry,  with  a  sigh. 

"  If  you  are  asked  about  anything,  you  can  say  that  what 
you  did  is  Tom  Paulding's  secret,  and  that  you  have  promised 
to  keep  it  solemnly,"  suggested  Uncle  Dick. 


THE    "WORKING    HYPOTHESIS."  225 

"  So  we  can,"  Harry  responded ;  "  and  I  reckon  that  will 
make  them  want  to  know  all  the  more." 

His  friends  handed  Tom  the  two  bags  of  the  recovered 
coins,  and  Mr.  Rapallo  relieved  them  of  the  spades.  Then 
Cissy  Smith  and  Harry  Zaehary  departed. 

When  Tom  and  Uncle  Dick  stood  at  the  top  of  the  little 
flight  of  stairs,  they  saw  Pauline  come  flying  out  of  the  house 
toward  them. 

"  Remember,  Tom,"  said  his  uncle,  "you  must  not  tell  what 
you  have  been  doing — at  least,  not  yet." 

"  I  know  that,"  Tom  responded. 

"  Where  have  you  two  boys  been  ? "  asked  Polly. 

"  We  Ve  '  been  to  London  to  see  the  queen,' "  replied  Mr. 
Rapallo,  gravely. 

"And  what  have  you  got  in  those  bags? — those  are  the 
ones  I  made  for  Tom,  I  'm  sure." 

Tom  looked  at  his  uncle,  and  made  no  answer. 

"  That 's  a.  secret,"  said  Uncle  Dick,  laughing  lightly  as  they 
went  up  the  walk  to  the  house. 

"  But  I  'm  so  good,"  cried  the  coaxing  Pauline.  "  I  'm  so 
good  you  ought  to  tell  me  everything." 

Tom  and  Mr.  Rapallo  were  able  to  resist  her  blandishments, 
and  the  curiosity  of  Pauline  was  not  satisfied  that  day. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


A   STARTLING   DISCOVERY. 


AULINE  followed  her  uncle  and  her 
brother  rather  despondently  to  the  door 
of  the  house. 

"  You  need  n't  tell  me  anything  if  you 

don't  want  to,"  she  said ;  "  but  I  'm  good, 

and  I  '11  tell  you  something — and  it  's 

something  you  '11  be  glad  to  know,  too.     Breakfast  is  ready !  " 

And  with  that  Parthian  shaft  of  magnanimous  reproach, 

she  sped  past  them  into  the  house. 

"  We  had  best  get  rid  of  the  dirt  before  we  go  to  table," 
Mr.  Rapallo  suggested. 

"Hydraulic  mining  is  a  pretty  wet  thing  to  do,"  Tom  de- 
clared. "I  don't  believe  I  've  got  a  dry  rag  on  me;  and 
there  's  sand  in  my  shoes  and  in  my  hair  and  in  my  ears." 

They  went  upstairs,  and  Tom  hid  the  four  precious  bags 
under  the  pillow  of  his  bed ;  and  then  he  made  himself  pre- 
sentable for  the  breakfast-table. 

He  and  his  uncle  had  agreed  that,  if  they  succeeded  in  find- 
ing the  treasure,  they  should  keep  it  a  secret  until  they  had 
sold  the  gold  and  with  the  proceeds  paid  off  the  mortgage 


A   STARTLING    DISCOVERY.  227 

that  worried  Mrs.  Paulding.  Mr.  Rapallo  had  explained  to 
Tom  that  as  the  mortgagee  had  requested  payment  of  the 
bond  there  probably  would  need  to  be  no  delay  whatever. 
They  might  go  down-town  the  next  morning,  sell  the  gold 
and  pay  the  mortgage  off,  all  in  two  hours. 

Then  Tom  counted  on  the  pleasure  of  going  to  his  mother 
with  the  canceled  bond  and  mortgage,  and  making  her  a 
present  of  it.  In  imagination  he  had  gone  over  the  scene 
half  a  dozen  times ;  and  he  longed  for  the  flash  of  joy  which 
would  surely  pass  over  Mrs.  Paulding's  face. 

Yet  when  Tom  and  his  uncle  came  down  to  breakfast  that 
Decoration  Day  morning,  the  temptation  to  tell  his  mother 
the  whole  story  was  almost  more  than  the  boy  could  resist. 

Mrs.  Paulding  saw  that  something  had  happened,  and  that 
her  son  was  in  an  unusual  state  of  suppressed  excitement. 
But  she  would  not  ask  for  any  specific  explanation,  knowing 
that  Tom  had  had  Cissy  and  Harry  in  the  house  all  night, 
and  that  the  three  boys  had  gone  out  early  with  Mr.  Rapallo. 
To  this  daybreak  excursion  with  her  brother  she  ascribed  all 
her  son's  excitement,  and  she  wondered  a  little  what  they  had 
been  doing  to  cause  it.  But  she  had  perfect  confidence  in  her 
brother  and  in  her  son,  and  she  knew  that  the  latter  would 
surely  wish  her  to  share  in  any  pleasure  he  had  enjoyed ;  so 
she  asked  no  questions,  content  to  be  told  whenever  Tom  was 
ready  to  tell  her,  and  unwilling  to  mar  his  delight  in  the  tell- 
ing by  any  obtrusive  inquiries. 

Pauline  was  less  reticent.  At  least,  she  had  less  self-con- 
trol. 


228  TOM   PAULDING. 

"  Tom  Paulding !  "  she  exclaimed,  as  her  brother  took  his 
seat  at  the  table,  "  what  is  the  matter  with  you  this  morning  ? 
And  where  have  you  been  ?  You  are  just  bursting  with 
something  to  tell,  and  yet  you  won't  let  me  know  what  it  is." 

"  So  you  think  Tom  has  something  on  his  mind  ? "  asked 
Mr.  Rapallo. 

"  Indeed  I  do,"  she  answered.     "  Do  you  know  what  it  is  ? " 

"  Yes,"  replied  her  uncle. 

"  And  will  you  tell  me  ? "  she  begged.  "  Remember  that 
I  'm  your  only  niece,  and  I  'm  so  good." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  '11  tell  you  what  Tom  has  on  his  mind,  if  you 
want  to  know,"  said  Mr.  Rapallo. 

Tom  looked  up  at  his  uncle  in  surprise,  but  he  caught  the 
twinkle  in  Mr.  Rapallo's  eye,  and  he  was  reassured. 

"Well,  what  is  it?"  Polly  demanded.     " Tell  me  quickly." 

"It  is  a  secret !  "  Mr.  Rapallo  answered  solemnly. 

"  Oh,  I  know  that,"  returned  Polly,  disappointed. 

"  Then  I  need  not  have  told  you,"  said  her  uncle. 

"  You  have  n't  told  me  anything  really,"  the  little  girl  con- 
tinued.    "At  least,  you  have  n't  told  me  what  the  secret  is." 

"If  I  told  you  that,"  Mr.  Rapallo  declared,  with  great 
gravity,  "it  would  not  be  a  secret  any  more, — so  it  would  be 
no  use  to  you." 

"  Oh  !  "  cried  Polly,  "  I  never  had  an  uncle  as  aggravoking 
as  you  are." 

"  Still,  if  you  will  conquer  your  just  resentment,"  Mr.  Ra- 
pallo went  on,  "and  pass  me  my  cup  of  tea,  I  shall  take  it  as 
a  favor  and  seek  for  an  occasion  to  do  as  much  for  you." 


A  STARTLING   DISCOVERY.  229 

"  Uncle  Dick,"  said  Pauline,  "  you  are  a  goose  !  " 

"  Pauline  !  "  called  Mrs.  Paulding',  reprovingly. 

"  Oh,  well,  Uncle  Dick  knows  what  I  mean,"  the  little  girl 
explained. 

"  I  deny  that  I  am  a  goose,"  said  Mr.  Eapallo  ;  "  but  I  will 
admit  that  Tom  and  I  have  been  out  this  morning  on  a  wild- 
goose  chase." 

"  Did  you  get  any  ? "  asked  Pauline. 

tt  We  got  one,"  Mr.  Rapallo  replied ;  "  it  was  a  goose  with 
golden  eggs." 

"  But  that  7s  only  a  story,"  said  the  little  girl,  doubtfully. 

"  This  was  only  a  story ; "  her  uncle  answered,  "  but  it  came 
true." 

'•'  I  don't  think  it 's  at  all  nice  of  you  to  puzzle  me  like  this, 
Uncle  Dick,"  Pauline  declared,  as  she  took  Mr.  Rapallo's 
teacup  from  her  mother's  hands  and  passed  it  to  her  uncle. 

"  Thank  your  ladyship,"  said  Mr.  Rapallo. 

"  Oh,"  cried  Polly,  suddenly,  "  you  are  going  to  see  two 
girls ! " 

"  Am  I  ? "  asked  her  uncle.     "  How  do  you  know  ?  " 

"  That 's  what  Katie  always  says  when  she  finds  two  tea- 
leaves  floating  in  the  cup,"  Pauline  explained. 

"  Ah,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Rapallo,  "  so  two  leaves  in  my  cup 
mean  that  I  am  to  see  two  girls  ?  And  if  they  had  been  in 
your  cup — " 

"  Then  that  would  mean  two  boys,"  Polly  broke  in.     "  Of 
course,  I  don't  believe  it  at  all,  but  that 's  what  Katie  says. 
She  believes  all  sorts  of  things." 
20 


230  TOM  PAULDING. 

"  And  where  is  the  Brilliant  Conversationahst  this  morn- 
ing?" asked  Mr.  Rapallo. 

"  I  think  I  heard  the  postman's  whistle  a  minute  ago,"  Mrs. 
Paulding  answered;  "she  has  probably  gone  out  for  the 
letters." 

The  Brilliant  Conversationalist  came  in  just  then,  with  two 
letters  in  her  hand.  One  she  gave  Mrs.  Paulding,  and  the 
other  she  placed  before  Mr.  Rapallo. 

"  There  's  only  one  for  you,  Mr.  Richard,"  she  said,  with 
kindly  interest.     "  Ye  don't  be  gettin'  as  many  as  ye  did." 

"  I  'm  in  luck  to-day  as  well  as  you,  Tom,"  said  Mr.  Rapallo, 
when  he  had  glanced  over  his  letter,  which  he  then  folded  up 
and  put  in  his  pocket  without  further  remark. 

"How  is  Tom  in  luck  to-day?"  asked  Polly. 

"  That  is  part  of  the  secret,"  answered  her  uncle. 

"  I  don't  like  secrets,"  she  replied,  haughtily.  "And  I  'm 
going  to  have  some  of  my  own,"  she  added,  hastily,  "  just  to 
tease  you." 

Mr.  Rapallo  laughed  at  this  inconsistent  threat.  Tom 
silently  went  on  with  his  breakfast,  scarcely  trusting  himself 
to  speak,  for  fear  that  he  might  say  more  than  he  meant, 

Mrs.  Paulding  had  been  reading  her  letter ;  and  now  she 
laid  it  down  with  a  sigh. 

"  It 's  about  that  mortgage,  Richard,"  she  said,  with  anxiety 
and  weariness  in  her  voice  ;  "  they  want  it  paid  as  soon  as  I 
can  pay  it." 

"Perhaps  that  will  be  sooner  than  you  think,  Mother," 
cried  Tom,  involuntarily. 


A   STARTLING   DISCOVERY.  231 

"  I  agree  with  Tom,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Rapallo,  hastily  break- 
ing in.  "Yon  can  never  tell  what  may  turn  up.  Perhaps 
there  may  be  good  fortune  in  store  for  you." 

"  I  'm  not  much  of  a  believer  in  luck,"  said  Mrs.  Paulding, 
sadly. 

"But,  Mother,  I  know — "  began  Tom,  impulsively. 

Again  Mr.  Rapallo  interrupted  him  sharply.  "  Tom."  he 
cried,  "  if  you  have  finished  your  breakfast,  we  11  go  upstairs. 
You  may  remember  that  we  have  something  to  do  there." 

"Now  what  can  you  have  to  do  on  Decoration  Day  morn- 
ing, 1 'd  like  to  know,"  Polly  declared.  "  I  think  this  keep- 
ing of  secrets  and  making  allusions  and  hints  is  just  too 
annoying  for  anything." 

"Uncle  Dick  is  right,"  said  Tom,  rising  from  the  table. 
"  We  have  work  to  do  to-day." 

Then  he  went  around  to  his  mother  and  put  his  arm  about 
her  and  kissed  her.  He  patted  Polly's  curls  as  he  passed  out 
of  the  room,  and  she  shook  her  head  indignantly. 

When  they  were  upstairs  Mr.  Rapallo  said  to  Tom,  "  You 
came  pretty  near  giving  yourself  away,  then." 

"I  know  I  did,"  Tom  answered.  "I  could  n't  bear  to  see 
my  mother  worrying  about  money  when  I  've  got  enough 
here  to  make  her  comfortable." 

"  How  do  you  know  ? "  asked  Mr.  Rapallo.  "  You  have  n't 
counted  it  yet." 

"  I  '11  do  it  now,"  Tom  responded,  and  he  took  a  bag  from 
under  his  pillow  and  emptied  it  out  on  the  bed.  Then  he 
rapidly  counted  the  coins  into  little  heaps  of  ten  each.     There 


,232  TOM    PAULDING. 

were  forty-nine  of  these  in  the  first  bag,  and  three  pieces 
over. 

"  You  have  made  a  pretty  even  division  among  the  bags, 
apparently,"  said  Mr.  Rapallo.  "Two  thousand  guineas  in 
four  equal  parts  would  be  five  hundred  in  each  bag ;  and  you 
have  four  hundred  and  ninety-three  in  that  one." 

"  I  '11  count  the  others,"  Tom  exclaimed,  "and  perhaps  one 
of  them  has  seven  guineas  more  than  its  share." 

"  You  must  not  expect  to  find  every  one  of  the  two  thou- 
sand guineas,"  Mr.  Rapallo  declared ;  "  that  would  be  a  little 
too  much.  You  must  be  satisfied  if  you  have  nineteen  hun- 
dred or  thereabouts.  It  is  a  mistake  to  be  too  grasping.  I 
wonder  if  I  am  doing  right  myself,  in  trying  for  more  than, 
I  can  get  now  ?  You  know  that  I  have  been  at  work  on  a  lit- 
tle invention? — well,  that  letter  I  got  this  morning  brought 
me  a  very  good  offer  for  all  my  rights  in  it." 

"  Are  you  going  to  take  it  1 "  asked  Tom,  as  he  ranged  the 
contents  of  the  second  bag  in  little  heaps  of  ten. 

"  I  think  not,"  his  uncle  answered.    "  I  hope  I  can  do  better." 

"There  are  five  hundred  and  two  in  this  bag,"  Tom  de- 
clared. 

"  That  is  to  say,"  Mr.  Rapallo  commented,  "  you  have  nine 
hundred  and  ninety-five  in  the  two  bags.  At  that  rate  you 
would  be  short  only  ten  guineas  in  the  two  thousand." 

And  this  was  almost  exactly  as  it  turned  out.  The  third 
bag  contained  f our  hundred  and  seventy-f our,  and  the  fourth 
had  five  hundred  and  eighteen.  Thus  in  the  four  bags  there 
were  nineteen  hundred  and  eighty-seven  of  the  two  thousand 


A   STARTLING   DISCOVERY.  233 

guineas  stolen  from  Tom's  great-grandfather.  Only  thirteen 
of  them  had  been  washed  away  or  missed  by  the  eager  fin- 
gers of  Tom  and  his  friends. 

"How  much  in  our  money  will  nineteen  hundred  and 
eighty-seven  guineas  be  ? "  asked  Tom. 

"  A  little  more  than  ten  thousand  dollars,  I  think,"  his  uncle 
answered. 

"  Ten  thousand  dollars ! "  repeated  the  boy,  awed  by  the 
amount. 

"That  is,  if  you  get  only  the  bullion  value  of  the  gold," 
continued  Mr.  Rapallo.  "  Perhaps  some  of  the  separate  coins 
here  may  have  a  value  of  their  own,  from  their  rarity.  There 
may  be  guineas  of  Queen  Anne  and  of  William  and  Mary. 
Some  of  them  are  perhaps  worth  two  or  three  times  their 
weight  as  mere  specie." 

As  Mr.  Rapallo  was  speaking,  Tom  was  rapidly  turning 
over  the  little  heaps  that  had  come  out  of  the  fourth  bag, 
which  was  still  on  his  bed. 

"  These  are  all  George  the  Third,"  he  said,  "  every  one  of 
them.  There  is  n't  a  coin  in  this  heap  that  has  n't  his  head 
on  it." 

"  That  is  curious,"  said  his  uncle. 

"And  these  are  all  of  the  same  year,  too,"  cried  Tom. 
"  Seventeen  hundred  and  seventy." 

"  That  is  rather  remarkable,"  Mr.  Rapallo  declared  ;  "  but  I 
suppose  you  have  there  the  contents  of  one  of  the  old  bags 
which  had  been  filled  from  a  stock  of  coin  received  at  one 
shipment  from  the  mint  in  London." 


'234  TOM   PAULDING. 

"But  the  other  bags  are  all  the  same,"  Tom  returned, 
quickly  examining  the  handful  of  coins  he  had  taken  from 
onetof  the  other  bags. 

"  They  can't  be  all  alike,"  Uncle  Dick  responded.  "  Two 
thousand  guineas  of  the  same  mintage  would  be  very  unlikely 
to  be  paid  out  all  at  once  six  years  after  the  date." 

"  I  have  n't  found  a  single  guinea  of  any  year  but  seven- 
teen seventy,"  said  Tom,  looking  at  coin  after  coin. 

"  That  is  certainly  suspicious,"  Mr.  Rapallo  remarked. 

"  Suspicious  ? "  echoed  Tom. 

"  Oh  !  "  cried  Uncle  Dick,  starting  up.  "  I  hope  not !  And 
yet  it  would  explain  one  thing." 

"  What  is  it  ? "  Tom  asked,  with  a  first  faint  chill  of  doubt. 

Mr.  Rapallo  did  not  answer.  He  went  into  his  own  room 
and  came  back  at  once,  with  a  small  stone  in  his  hand  and  a 
glass  bottle  containing  a  colorless  liquid. 

Setting  the  bottle  down  on  the  table,  he  took  at  random  a 
guinea  from  each  of  the  four  bags ;  and  with  each  he  made 
a  mark  on  the  stone,  on  the  fine  grain  of  which  he  rubbed  off 
a  bit  of  the  soft  metal.  Then  he  put  down  the  coins,  and,  tak- 
ing up  the  glass  stopper  of  the  bottle,  he  touched  a  drop  of 
the  liquid  to  the  four  marks.  They  turned  dark  and  disap- 
peared. Mr.  Rapallo  sighed,  and  cast  a  glance  of  pity  on  his 
nephew. 

Then  he  plunged  his  hand  deep  down  into  each  of  the  four 
1  tags  in  turn  and  drew  forth  four  more  guineas,  and  tested 
these  as  he  had  tested  the  first  four ;  and  again  the  marks 
turned  dark  and  disappeared. 


A   STARTLING   DISCOVEKY. 


235 


" Uncle  Dick,  what  are  you  doing? "  cried  Tom.     " Is  any- 
thing—  " 

"  Tom,"  said  Mr.  Rapallo,  placing  his  hand  affectionately 


"taking  up  the  stopper,  he  touched  a  drop  ok  the  liquid  to  the  marks." 

on  the  boy's  shoulder,  "  are  you  strong  enough  to  learn  the 
truth  at  once  ?  " 

"What  do  you  mean?"  Tom  asked,  rising  involuntarily, 
with  a  sudden  iciness  of  his  hands  and  feet. 

"  I  mean,"  his  uncle  answered,  slowly,  "  that  I  am  afraid 


236  TOM   PAULDING. 

that  all  these  guineas  you  have  toiled  for  so  bravely  are 
counterfeit." 

"  Counterfeit  ? "  repeated  the  boy. 

"  Yes,"  Mr.  Rapallo  replied ;  "  I  have  tested  eight  of  these 
coins  taken  at  random,  and  no  one  of  them  is  gold.  I  am 
afraid  there  is  not  a  genuine  guinea  in  all  your  two  thousand 
here." 

Tom  said  nothing  for  a  minute  or  more.  He  drew  a  long 
breath  and  stared  straight  before  him.  He  heard  the  waver- 
ing whistle  of  a  river  steamer ;  and  then  he  caught  the  faint 
notes  of  a  brass  band  leading  a  local  post  of  the  Grand  Army 
of  the  Republic  to  take  part  in  the  procession  of  the  day. 

At  last  he  looked  up  at  his  uncle,  and  said,  "  Poor  mother ! 
I  've  no  surprise  for  her  now." 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


COUNSEL. 


NCLE  DICK  laid  his  hand  gently  on  Tom 
Paulding's  shoulder. 

"Brace  up,  my  boy/'  said  he,  with 
sympathy  in  his  voice.  "  You  have  met 
with  a  misfortune ;  and  just  now  it  seems 
to  you  as  if  the  world  was  all  hung  with 
black,  and  life  not  worth  living.  Look  up,  and  you  will  see 
that  the  sun  is  still  shining  outside.  Live  to  be  as  old  as  I 
am,  and  you  will  learn  to  expect  little  and  to  be  satisfied  with 
less.     In  the  meanwhile,  keep  a  stout  heart." 

"  I  have  thought  about  this  so  long,  Uncle  Dick,"  replied 
the  boy;  "I  have  n't  thought  of  anything  else  for  months 
now;  and  the  money  meant  so  much  to  us  all — it 's  hard  to 
have  to  give  it  up  all  of  a  sudden,  just  when  we  'd  laid  hands 
on  it  at  last." 

"  I  know,"  his  uncle  responded.  "  The  blow  is  hard  to  bear 
at  best,  and  you  got  it  at  the  very  moment  when  it  was  the 
hardest  to  stand.  I  see  that,  and  I  am  heartily  sorry  for  you. 
But  you  must  not  give  up  the  struggle  because  you  have  lost 
the  first  skirmish." 


238  TOM   PAULDING. 

"  You  are  right,  I  know,"  Tom  returned,  sadly.  "  But  I 
had  so  many  good  uses  for  those  two  thousand  guineas. 
They  would  have  paid  off  the  mortgage  and  kept  mother  from 
worrying  any  more  about  that.  Then  I  could  have  had  an 
education,  as  my  father  had  and  my  grandfather — they  were 
both  graduated  from  Columbia  College,  you  know — and  I 
wanted  to  work  at  the  School  of  Mines.  Now  I  shall  have  to 
go  into  a  store ;  of  course,  I  shall  try  and  do  my  best  there ; 
but  I  don't  believe  that  's  what  I  can  do  best.  I  like  out- 
doors, and  the  open  air,  and  I  used  to  see  myself  working 
hard  in  the  mountains,  planning  a  mine  and  looking  after 
the  work.  Well,"  and  he  sighed  again,  "  that 's  all  over  now," 
and  as  he  said  this  there  was  a  lump  in  his  throat. 

"  Perhaps  not,"  his  uncle  remarked,  quietly. 

"But  you  said  this  money  is  all  counterfeit?"  Tom  re- 
turned. 

"  I  think  so,"  Uncle  Dick  declared. 

"  Well,  then  ? "  asked  Tom. 

"  This  is  not  all  the  money  there  is  in  the  world,"  Mr.  Ra- 
pallo  replied,  cheerfully,  "  nor  have  you  no  other  chances  but 
the  one  which  has  gone  back  on  you  this  morning.  Things 
are  never  as  bad  as  we  think  they  are  at  first." 

"I  think  I  know  just  how  bad  this  thing  is — for  me,"  said 
the  boy,  gloomily. 

"  You  valued  the  finding  of  this  buried  treasure,"  his  uncle 
responded,  "because  of  the  uses  you  could  put  it  to — the 
relief  of  your  mother,  your  own  education,  certain  advan- 
tages for  your  sister.     Well,  these  are  all  things  which  may 


COUNSEL.  239 

be  obtained  in  other  ways — perhaps  not  all  at  once,  but  in 
time." 

"  I  don't  see  how,"  said  Tom,  doubtfully. 

"Neither  do  I  now,"  Mr.  Rapallo  replied;  "if  I  did,  I 
should  show  you  at  once.  But  you  did  not  mean  to  keep 
your  two  thousand  guineas  as  a  miser's  hoard  to  gloat  over — " 

"  Of  course  I  did  n't,"  cried  Tom,  forcibly. 

"-As  you  intended  to  spend  it  to  produce  certain  results," 
his  uncle  went  on,  "  the  loss  of  this  money  is  the  loss  only  of 
one  of  the  means  by  which  these  results  could  be  secured. 
There  are  other  ways  of  accomplishing  them.  You  and  I 
must  look  them  up.  ^  I  am  sure  that  we  shall  find  something 
— even  if  it  is  not  all  we  seek.  You  know  that  we  make  a 
mistake  if  we  expect  the  millennium  over-night ;  in  my  ex- 
perience it  rarely  comes  before  the  day  after  to-morrow." 

Tom  smiled  faintly  at  this  speech  of  his  uncle's ;  and  Mr. 
Rapallo,  who  had  been  waiting  for  this  smile,  held  out  his 
hand  and  gave  the  boy  a.  hearty  clasp. 

"Now,  do  you  remember,  Tom,"  he  asked,  cheerily,  as 
though  determined  not  to  be  downcast,  "  that  you  once  told 
me  that  there  were  two  things  that  puzzled  you  when  you 
had  first  gone  through  the  box  of  papers  ? " 

"Yes,"  answered  his  nephew.  "First,  I  wanted  to  know 
where  the  money  was ;  and  second,  I  wondered  why  my  grand- 
father had  given  over  the  search  so  suddenly,  as  it  seemed." 

"  We  have  solved  both  problems,  I  think,  by  this  morning's 
work,"  Mr.  Rapallo  remarked.  "You  found  the  money  as 
you  had  hoped,  that  was  one  thing;    and  then  you  found 


240  TOM   PAULDING. 

that  it  was  counterfeit,  and  perhaps  that  was  the  reason  of 
the  other." 

"  Do  you  think  my  grandfather  knew  that  the  two  thou- 
sand guineas  were  not  really  gold  ? "  asked  Tom. 

"  Yes,"  answered  his  uncle. 

"  And  that  that  was  the  reason  why  he  gave  over  the  search 
all  at  once  ? "  Tom  pursued. 

"  Yes,"  said  Uncle  Dick  for  the  second  time. 

"But  how  could  he  know  that?"  cried  the  boy.  "We 
did  n't  find  it  out  till  we  had  found  the  money,  and  we  know 
he  did  n't  find  the  money." 

"  Then  he  must  have  made  the  discovery  in  some'  other 
way,"  declared  Uncle  Dick.  "  From  whom  did  your  great- 
grandfather get  the  two  thousand  guineas  ? " 

"From  a  man  named  Simon  Horwitz,"  answered  Tom. 
Then  suddenly  he  cried,  "  Oh  !  " 

"Well?"  said  his  uncle. 

"Well,  I  think  you  must  be  right,"  the  boy  explained. 
"My  grandfather  must  have  been  told  of  the  fraud,  and  that 
the  buried  treasure  was  n't  worth  bothering  about.  And  the 
way  he  knew  this  was,  somehow,  from  the  only  man  who 
knew  about  the  cheat." 

"  You  mean  Simon  Horwitz  ? "  asked  Mr.  Rapallo. 

"  I  '11  show  you  in  a  minute,"  said  Tom,  as  he  pulled  out 
the  box  of  old  papers  and  began  to  turn  them  over  hastily  in 
search  of  a  particular  paper.  At  last  he  found  what  he  was 
seeking,  and  placed  a  folded  piece  of  foolscap  in  his  uncle's 
hands. 


COUNSEL.  241 

"  There !  "  he  said. 

"This  is  indorsed  'Notes  of  Horwitz's  Confession/  but 
there  is  nothing  inside,"  Mr.  Rapallo  said,  as  he  turned  the 
paper  over.  "However,  I  think  I  see  how  it  was.  When 
your  grandfather  was  collecting  all  possible  information 
about  the  stolen  guineas,  he  finally  got  from  the  man  who 
had  given  his  father  the  money  a  confession  that  it  had  been 
paid  in  counterfeit  coin — that  would  account  for  the  suspi- 
cious delay  in  its  payment,  too.  Thereupon  of  course  your 
grandfather  ceased  all  effort  to  discover  the  whereabouts  of 
the  stolen  money — which  was  really  not  money  at  all.  He 
indorsed  the  cover  of  these  '  Notes  of  Horwitz's  Confession ' 
and  put  it  with  the  other  papers,  or  thought  he  did.  At  all 
events,  the  cover  of  this  confession  is  preserved  with  the  other 
papers.  And  we  find  it  too  late,  when  we  have  had  all  our 
labor  in  vain." 

"  That  would  account  for  everything  that  used  to  puzzle 
me,"  Tom  responded. 

"Now,  if  I  were  you,"  said  Mr.  Rapallo,  "I  would  go  for 
your  friends,  Cissy  Smith  and  Harry  Zachary,  and  get  them 
up  here  in  this  room ;  and  I  would  tell  them  all  about  the 
counterfeit  coin;  and  I  would  release  them  at  once  from 
their  pledge  of  secrecy." 

"  Oh,  Uncle  Dick,"  cried  Tom,  "  would  you  let  them  tell 
everybody  ? " 

"  Why  not?"  asked  his  uncle.     "You  cannot  expect  them 

to  keep  our  morning's  work  a  secret  forever." 

"  I  suppose  not,"  said  Tom,  doubtfully. 
21 


242  TOM   PAULDING. 

"  Well,  then/'  Mr.  Rapallo  continued,  "  the  sooner  they  get 
it  over  the  better.  Let  them  tell  the  whole  story  at  once. 
And  the  final  surprise  about  the  counterfeit  money  will  make 
the  tale  only  the  more  interesting." 

"  That 's  so,"  Tom  assented,  perceiving  at  once  the  force  of 
this  suggestion. 

"You  see,  Tom,"  continued  his  uncle,  "people  generally 
will  not  know  that  you  were  going  to  do  anything  in  particu- 
lar with  the  money,  and  they  will  never  suspect  your  great 
disappointment.  Of  course  you  need  not  tell  anybody  about 
that." 

"  Of  course  not,"  Tom  declared,  with  undue  emphasis. 

"  Except  your  mother,"  Mr.  Rapallo  added. 

"  Must  she  know  ? "  asked  Tom. 

"  Certainly,"  was  the  firm  answer.  "  Go  and  tell  her  and 
Polly  all  about  it  at  once.  You  may  be  sure  that  your  mother 
will  be  glad  to  learn  that  you  wanted  the  money  to  help  her." 

"  I  think  she  would  have  been  pleased  if  we  could  have 
gone  into  her  room  and  shown  her  the  mortgage  all  paid  off," 
said  Tom,  sighing  again.  "  But  there  's  no  use  thinking  of 
that  now." 

"  I  've  an  appointment,"  Mr.  Rapallo  declared,  looking  at 
his  watch,  "  or  at  least  I  am  going  to  try  to  see  a  friend  be- 
fore he  goes  out.  Will  you  come  into  your  mother's  room 
with  me  before  I  go  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  Tom  answered.  "  I  may  as  well  get  it  over  as  soon 
as  I  can." 

Mr.  Rapallo  led  the  way  to  Mrs.  Paulding's  room,  the  door 


COUNSEL. 


243 


of  which  stood  wide  open,  as  usual.  Tom's  mother  was  seated 
by  the  window,  and  by  her  side  there  was  a  basket  of  the 
household  linen,  which  she  was  repairing.  Pauline  had  a 
low  chair  by  her  mother's ;  and  she  was  hemming'  towels. 


'TOM    TOLD    HER    THE     WHOLE    STORY. 


"  Just  look  at  that  hem,  Uncle  Dick !  "  cried  Polly,  as  Mr. 
Rapallo  entered  the  room.  "  I  think  it 's  as  good,  almost,  as 
if  it  had  been  done  on  a  machine." 

"Is  there  any  trouble?"  asked  Mrs.  Paulding,  reading  the 
faces  of  her  brother  and  her  son. 


244  TOM   PAULDING. 

"  No,"  answered  Mr.  Rapallo.  "  There  is  no  trouble  of  any 
kind,  but  Tom  has  had  a  sore  disappointment,  and  I  think  it 
will  do  him  good  to  tell  you  all  about  it." 

Mrs.  Paulding  looked  up,  and  Tom  bent  over  and  kissed 
her. 

"  Tom  is  a  little  crushed  just  now,  Mary,"  Uncle  Dick  con- 
tinued. "  But  he  will  get  over  it,  and  it  won't  hurt  him.  A 
boy  is  a  little  like  a  ball :  you  throw  it  down  and  it  bounds 
up  unhurt — that  is,  if  it  has  any  spring  in  it ;  and  Tom  has 
plenty  of  that." 

When  Mr.  Rapallo  had  left  them,  Mrs.  Paulding  looked 
up  at  Tom  again  with  a  smile,  and  said,  "  Now,  my  boy,  tell 
me  all  your  trouble." 

And  Tom  told  her  the  whole  story,  his  hopes,  his  expecta- 
tions, his  success,  his  disappointment.  While  he  was  telling 
it,  his  mother's  quick  sympathy  sustained  and  cheered  him. 
And  when  he  had  told  her  everything,  he  felt  comforted,  and 
the  world  was  no  longer  hung  with  black. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


CONCLUSION. 


FTER  telling  his  mother  and  his  sister  the 
circumstances  and  the  result  of  the  quest 
which  had  occupied  his  mind  for  six 
months  and  more,  Tom  Paulding  felt 
a  little  better.  Already  he  was  able  to 
bear  the  poignant  disappointment  more 
bravely,  and  he  tried  to  keep  down  the  bitterness  he  had 
felt  at  first.  By  resolute  determination  he  put  away  all 
repining,  and  so,  as  the  day  wore  on,  he  began  to  pick  up 
heart  again. 

In  the  afternoon  he  took  Harry  Zachary  and  Cissy  Smith 
up  into  his  own  room,  and  he  explained  how  it  was  that  their 
labors  were  in  vain.  He  showed  them  the  counterfeit  coins 
and  repeated  for  them  Mr.  Rapallo's  test  with  the  touch- 
stone. 

"  If  we  'd  only  known,"  said  Cissy,  "  that  the  gold  we  were 
after  was  n't  gold  at  all,  we  would  n't  have  been  so  keen  after 
it,  and  we  should  n't  have  tried  so  hard  to  throw  Corkscrew 
off  the  scent." 


246  TOM  PAULDING. 

':  I  don't  think  I  ever  read  of  a  buried  treasure/'  remarked 
Harry,  "  that  was  n't  real.  It  ?s  just  as  though  the  wicked 
magician  had  got  hold  of  the  secret  talisman  and  had  changed 
the  coins  from  gold  to  dross." 

"Shucks!"  returned  Cissy,  forcibly;  "the  only  wicked 
magician  was  that  Simon  Horwitz,  and  he  'd  have  to  have 
had  a  talisman  against  old  age  and  death,  if  he  wanted  to 
be  alive  now." 

"  Do  you  want  us  to  keep  this  a  secret  any  longer  ? "  asked 
Harry,  a  little  anxiously. 

"  No,"  Tom  answered,  "  Uncle  Dick  says  that  the  sooner  it 
is  known  the  sooner  it  will  be  forgotten." 

"  I  don't  want  to  forget  it,"  was  Cissy's  reply.  "  I  enjoyed 
all  I  had  to  do  with  it.  And  if  it  had  been  twice  the  trouble, 
I  'd  have  done  it  three  times  over,  just  for  a  sight  of  Cork- 
screw Lott  twisting  himself  up  into  a  double-bow  knot  when 
your  uncle  got  the  range  on  him  ! " 

Even  Tom  was  moved  to  laughter  when  he  recalled  the  sur- 
prise expressed  on  Lott's  face  when  he  first  received  the  full 
force  of  the  stream  of  water. 

At  school  the  next  day,  when  the  news  had  spread,  Tom 
was  overwhelmed  with  questions  of  all  sorts.  Fortunately 
the  comments  of  Corkscrew  Lott  were  not  made  in  Tom's 
hearing,  or  there  might  have  been  a  renewal  of  the  Battle  of 
the  Curls.  Apparently  Corkscrew  remembered  that  decisive 
combat ;  and  what  he  had  to  say  about  Tom  Paulding's  silly 
conduct  was  said  behind  Tom  Paulding's  back.  No  doubt 
this  was  wisest,  for  it  is  greatly  to  be  feared  that  a  fight 


CONCLUSION.  247 

would  have  been  a  great  relief  to  Tom's  feelings  just  then. 
Perhaps  Corkscrew  was  shrewd  enough  to  suspect  this ;  at 
any  rate,  he  kept  out  of  Tom's  way,  and  there  was  no  overt 
act  of  hostility.  Since  the  Battle  of  the  Curls  Corkscrew  had 
continued  to  grow,  and  he  was  now  nearly  six  feet  high ;  he 
was  by  far  the  tallest  boy  in  the  school,  and  his  long  boots 
served  to  exaggerate  his  height ;  but  Tom  was  in  a  frame  of 
mind  that  would  have  made  it  dangerous  for  any  one  to  have 
stood  up  before  him  in  a  fair  fight. 

At  dinner  that  night  Mr.  Rapallo  was  late.  He  was  a  little 
quieter  than  usual,  perhaps,  and  took  pleasure  in  drawing 
Polly  out  and  in  getting  her  to  talk  about  her  school  and  her 
school  friends. 

The  little  girl  mentioned  that  one  of  her  friends  was  in  bed 
with  a  bad  attack  of  "  new-mown  hay." 

Uncle  Dick  was  puzzled.  "I  suppose  you  mean  'hay- 
fever,'  "  he  said,  "  but  this  is  not  the  season  for  it." 

"It  is  n't  'hay-fever'  at  all,"  she  declared,  "it 's  new-mown 
hay ;  that 's  what  the  doctor  called  it." 

"  Oh  ! "  and  her  uncle  laughed  out,  "  I  see  now.  You  mean 
pneumonia." 

"  That 's  just  what  I  said,"  Polly  asserted. 

"  Mary,"  said  Mr.  Rapallo,  turning  to  Mrs.  Paulding,  "  you 
do  not  know  how  happy  I  have  been  here  with  you ;  and  I 
myself  don't  yet  know  how  much  I  shall  miss  you  all." 

"  You  are  not  going  away  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Paulding. 

"Again?"  cried  Polly;  "and  you  have  only  just  come 
back." 


248  TOM   PAULDING. 

Tom  said  nothing,  but  lie  looked  at  his  uncle ;  and  Mr. 
Rapallo  knew  by  this  glance  how  much  his  nephew  would 
regret  his  departure. 

"  I  am  going  away  to-night,"  Uncle  Dick  declared. 

" To-night?"  echoed  Polly. 

"  I  hope  you  will  not  be  gone  so  long  as  you  were  the  last 
time,"  Mrs.  Paulding  exclaimed. 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  shall  be  gone  longer,"  Mr.  Rapallo  answered. 
"  In  fact,  I  don't  know  when  I  shall  be  back.  I  'm  a  rolling 
stone,  you  see,  and  I  am  always  rolling  on  and  trying  to 
gather  moss.  I  leave  New  York  to-night  for  San  Francisco, 
and  next  week  I  expect  to  sail  for  Australia." 

"  But  you  won't  stay  there  long  ? "  Polly  inquired. 

"I  doubt  if  I  do,"  he  answered;  "for  I  have  to  go  to 
Japan  and  China  and  India.  And  when  I  shall  get  back 
here  again,  I  cannot  venture  even  to  guess — probably  not 
for  several  years." 

"Oh,  Richard,"  said  Mrs.  Paulding,  "I  had  hoped  you 
would  settle  down  here  with  us  !  " 

"I  hoped  so,  too,"  her  brother  replied,  "but  I  'm  a  wan- 
derer on  the  face  of  the  earth,  and  there  is  no  use  in  my  try- 
ing to  cast  anchor  anywhere.  I  've  got  to  go  out  again  into 
deep  water  now,  and  I  suppose  I  may  try  to  make  myself 
believe  that  I  start  unwillingly;  but  I  don't  deceive  my- 
self. I  'm  getting  restless  again ;  I  've  seen  the  symptoms 
for  some  time ;  to-day  the  fever  was  at  its  height,  so  I  took 
up  with  an  offer  Joshua  Hoffmann  made  me,  and  I  start  off 
to-night." 


CONCLUSION.  249 

"  Then  Marmee  won't  get  her  Chr — "  Polly  was  going  to 
finish  with  " — istmas  present,"  when  she  remembered 
herself. 

"  Yes,  she  will,"  Uncle  Dick  remarked. 

"I  did  n't  say  it  out — not  all  of  it,"  explained  Pauline, 
blushing. 

"And  I  did  n't  need  you  to  remind  me  about  it,"  her  uncle 
responded,  smiling. 

Tom  was  sitting  still,  saying  nothing,  and  thinking  that 
his  uncle's  absence  would  leave  a  great  void  in  the  household, 
and  almost  wishing  that  he,  too,  might  go  to  see  these  strange 
countries,  Australia  and  India,  China  and  Japan. 

"  When  I  went  away  at  the  beginning  of  the  year,"  Mr. 
Rapallo  continued,  "  I  was  working  out  a  little  invention.  I 
had  to  travel  about  here  and  there,  investigating  and  im- 
proving my  model.  At  last  I  completed  it,  and  yesterday  a 
man  to  whom  I  had  shown  it  wrote  and  offered  me  a  good 
price  for  it.  I  thought  of  refusing  at  first,  but  I  went  to 
see  him  yesterday  afternoon,  and  we  had  a  long  talk,  and 
finally  I  accepted  the  offer.  This  morning  I  received  my 
money.  It  was  a  little  more  than  I  needed  to  pay  off  the 
mortgage  on  this  house — " 

"  Richard ! "  cried  Mrs.  Paulding,  her  eyes  filling  with  tears, 
while  Tom's  face  flushed  with  sudden  pleasure. 

"And  I  thought  that  was  the  best  thing  I  could  do  with 
the  money,"  Mr.  Rapallo  went  on ;  "  so  Mr.  Duncan  and 
I  arranged  with  the  lawyer  of  the  mortgagee,  and  here 
is  the  document   canceled.     The   first  of  June   is  a  little 


250  TOM   PAULDING. 

late  for  a  Christmas  present,  I  know ;  but  better  late  than 
never." 

"  I  do  not  think  I  ought  to  let  you  give  me  this  money  of 
yours,"  said  Mrs.  Paulding. 

"I  do  not  think  you  can  help  yourself,"  answered  her 
brother.  "The  deed  is  done — or  at  least  the  mortgage  is, 
and  that  leaves  the  deed  free.  If  Tom  had  had  better  luck 
with  his  hydraulic  mining,  I  should  n't  have  interfered  with 
his  intended  arrangements,  of  course." 

"  I  wanted  to  pay  off  the  mortgage  myself,"  said  Tom,  "  but 
I  'd  rather  have  you  do  it  than  any  one  else ;  and  of  course 
1 'm  delighted  that  it  is  done.  Mother  won't  worry  now, — 
that  was  what  I  wanted  most." 

"I  know  that,"  his  uncle  replied,  "but  you  want  to  go  to 
the  School  of  Mines  also  if  you  can,  don't  you  ? " 

"  Now  with  the  mortgage  no  longer  hanging  over  me,  I 
think  I  can  manage  that,"  Mrs.  Paulding  declared. 

"  I  think  it  can  be  arranged  without  any  expense  to  you," 
Mr.  Rapallo  responded. 

"  How  ? "  cried  Tom.     "  I  wish  it  could  ! " 

"  Well,"  Uncle  Dick  began,  "  I  '11  tell  you  how.  Mr.  Joshua 
Hoffmann — " 

"That  's  the  Old  Gentleman  who  leaned  over  the  Wall, 
is  n't  it  ? "  asked  Tom. 

"  The  Old  Gentleman  who  leaned  over  the  Wall  is  Mr. 
Joshua  Hoffmann,"  Mr.  Rapallo  replied.  "  He  is  an  old  friend 
of  mine,  and  it  is  on  his  business  that  I  am  going  to  the  East. 
One  day  when  you  passed  us  I  told  him  about  you,  Tom, 


CONCLUSION.  253 

and  about  your  quest  for  buried  treasure ;  and  that  is  why 
he  was  standing  by  the  hydrant  yesterday  morning  when  we 
were  experimenting  with  the  '  working  hypothesis.'  He  was 
greatly  interested  in  your  success ;  he  liked  your  hammer- 
ing out  your  puzzle  for  yourself  J  and  he  was  glad  that  you 
wanted  a  scientific  education.  When  I  told  him  about  the 
unfortunate  end  of  our  wild-goose  chase — how  we  had  found 
a  goose  that  laid  eggs  of  imitation  gold — he  listened  most 
attentively  and  with  real  sympathy.  This  morning  he  said 
to  me,  'If  that  nephew  of  yours  wants  to  come  to  me  for 
the  summer  as  a  sort  of  private  secretary — you  say  he  writes 
a  good  hand — I  '11  take  him  with  me  on  the  Rhadamaiithus; 
and  if  I  find  him  to  be  what  I  think  he  is,  I  '11  send  him  to 
the  School  of  Mines  at  my  own  expense  and  give  him  a  place 
at  the  Eldorado  Works  when  he  graduates.  A  boy  with 
gumption  and  with  grit  —  that 's  the  kind  of  boy  I  like  to 
have  about  me.' " 

"  Oh,  Uncle  ! "  cried  Tom. 

"  Will  you  accept  ? "  asked  Mr.  Rapallo. 

"  Won't  I ! "  Tom  returned.  "  That  is,  if  mother  can  spare 
me  this  summer." 

"  I  shall  miss  you,  my  boy,  no  doubt,"  Mrs.  Paulding  an- 
swered, "  but  of  course  you  must  go.  The  chance  is  too  good 
to  lose." 

So  it  came  to  pass  that  Tom  Paulding  went  on  a  quest  for 
biuied  treasure ;  and  found  it ;  and  it  was  worthless.  He 
wanted  the  money  for  a  double  purpose ;  and  these  things 

90 


254  TOM   PAULDING. 

came  about  in  other  ways.  Yet  his  wild-goose  chase  had 
not  been  a  piece  of  folly;  he  felt  himself  stronger  for  the 
striving,  and  perhaps  he  was  stronger  for  the  disappoint- 
ment. > 

Whether  his  quest  had  been  altogether  a  failure  or  not  was 
a  question  Tom  Paulding  never  solved.  Sometimes  it  seemed 
to  him  that  perhaps  it  may  be  a  bad  thing  for  a  boy  of  New 
York  at  the  end  of  the  nineteenth  century  to  expect  to  find 
buried  treasure  ready  to  his  hand ;  the  boy  might  just  as 
well  hope  to  have  a  fairy  godmother.  Now,  we  all  know 
that  fairy  godmothers  are  very  infrequent  nowadays — in  fact 
it  may  be  said  that  they  have  gone  quite  out  of  fashion. 


THE  END. 


